100 Themes Challenge Death Note Oneshots of Doom
by Holli-chan
Summary: 100 Themes Challenge with Death Note Oneshots. Some of them may be extremely random. Mostly MattxMello and LxLight with some other crap drabbled in. LOTS OF YAOI-NESS SO.... don't complain if you don't like that kind of stuff. ;D Rating May Change
1. Introduction

"Mello, this is Near, he'll be rooming across the hall from you."

I look down at the white haired albino boy, still getting used to the name - Mello, what kind of alias was that, really!? I hated it at first. And what's with the name Near? It sounds like a distance… - and studied him. He had a blank look on his face as he looked up at me, as if he was reading me. It made me extremely uncomfortable. He was just sitting there on the floor, toying with some completely white puzzle.

"Nice to meet you, Mello," Near said after a long pause, then went back to fiddling with the puzzle. I frowned at him. I didn't like being taken for granted, not a bit.

"What's that your playing with?" I ask, trying my best to sound friendly, but I know it sounds threatening. Near looks up at me again, his face still the same expression as before.

"Obviously, it is a puzzle, Mello," Near replied coldly. I flinch.

"I know THAT, I'm not an idiot, idiot," I snap, crossing my arms over my chest in irritation. "I just mean why is it blank? Who would want to play with a blank puzzle if all your going to get is white in the end?"

"I would." Near replies, and goes back to playing. Again, just up tossing me aside like I'm nothing. I huff angrily and look back to Roger, but he's already gone, which is annoying. I was hoping I could get another guide to show me around Wammys, but apparently not. I look back to the albino, who hasn't even stood up yet.

"You're suppose to show me to my room," I tell him, irritated. The boy doesn't reply, only putting another puzzle piece in place. I stand there for a while, waiting for him, and I see several kids throwing bewildered glances at me. I shoot glares back at them, irritated - what was wrong with this kid? "Are you going to or are you just going to sit there like an idiot?"

Near blinked, slowly, as if this was an effort, then placed the last piece on the puzzle with a long exhale. "Your room is upstairs, can you find it yourself, or are you that incompetent?" I flinch again at his jab, and wonder if it was actually an honest question or an insult, considering his monotonous voice. Incompetent? _Incompetent? _I was an ten year old genius, I was not _INCOMPETENT. _I glower at him but decide with a huff not to give him the pleasure of a reply, shoving past him and making a point of shoving my foot through his puzzle as I walk, making it come all apart again and hurry up the stairs towards my room, ignoring his monotone protests coming from behind me.

I can see people staring at me with wide eyes or frowns or judgmental stares, but I ignore them, flipping my hair over my shoulder and stalking upwards. I already hated him. In fact I already hated this entire orphanage. I hated everyone in it and everything about it. But especially Near. I hated the entire situation I was in, in fact. I hated that my parents had died, that I ended up in this stupid institution, that the person who was suppose to guide me around was an albino freak, that I was--

"Hey, you're on the wrong floor, chicka. Girl's floor's upstairs."

I whirl around at the sound of the voice, bristling. Behind me is the weirdest kid I think I'd ever met - lanky and redheaded. And I mean red, like a ruby, not like orangey-red. And he had these chunky glasses - no, goggles on his head that were orange tinted and covered his eyes. He had a wide smile on his face, which infuriated me even more - did he think I was funny!?

As soon as I turn around and death-glare him his smile vanishes, though, into a look of horror. "I'm a boy, jackass!" I growl, clenching my fists in fury and full-out ready to punch him in the nose. The redhead's eyes widen in surprise, his face burning with a blush.

"Oi'! Sorry, man!" the boy quickly apologizes, but not before I kick him in the knee, making him wince and jump back. "O-okay, okay, I deserved that," he continues, waving his hand and the smile returning. The smile catches me a little off guard and I stop my assault, but I'm still thoroughly pissed. "I just saw your hair and I figured you were a new girl, I'm sorry," he apologizes quickly, the blush deepening on his cheeks. I smirk at him, raising my eyebrows.

"Well… apology accepted I guess," I reply warily, crossing my arms over my chest. "But I'm still thoroughly pissed at you," I tell him, as an afterthought. The idiot's smile only grows even bigger.

"Eh, well, that's my fault then isn't it?" he says with a half-hearted chuckle, then to my surprise pulls something out of his back pocket, reaching it out to me. "Will this make it better?"

I stare at the bar in his hands, frozen. Was that? It was. It was chocolate. Not just any chocolate either - GODIVA chocolate. Milk variety.

"Hell yeah it will!" I cry before I can control myself, snatching it out of his hands and ripping off the wrapper with my teeth. His eyes widen as I snap off a piece immediately, sighing happily as it melts in my mouth perfectly. "Hmmm… I'm Mello, by the way."

He cocks an eyebrow and smirks. "And I'm Matt. Chocoholic or what?"

I realize I'm grinning like an idiot and tone it down, immediately embarrassed that I let myself shine through in this situation even though I'd only just met him. "Hmm, yeah," I admit despite myself, taking another bite of the wondrous chocolate. "Totally addicted. So… Matt?"

"Yeah," he replies, smiling. I suddenly wonder out of no where what color his eyes are and, without really taking a second thought, step forward and grab the goggles by their strap and pull them off, snapping them back onto his forehead. He yells out in pain and squeezes his eyes shut. I smirk before I can help myself. "What the hell?"

He opens his eyes and gives me a confused look. I freeze up.

His eyes are green.

"What was that for?" he demands, confusion in his emeralds for eyes. I smirk at him, putting one hand on my hip out of habit and tilt my head to the side, studying his eyes carefully. He frowns at me as I take another bite of chocolate, and I decide for no reason at all that, that shade of green is my favorite shade of green.

"Just wanted to know what color your eyes were," I tell him, the smirk lingering on my face. "They're green." Matt's eyebrows raise suspiciously, then he grins back at me and brushes my hair from my eyes. I flinch at the touch then relax when I realize he's only inspecting my eyes.

"And yours are blue," he says almost teasingly. I fight a smile tugging on my lips, swatting his hand away. _Damn, _I thought, _why couldn't it be him that was suppose to show me around?_

I sigh and look down the hallway at all the doors. "Which door's 666?" I ask after a pause, gear to get my bags into my room, since their weighing uncomfortably on my back. Matt blinks and frowns at me.

"That's my room."

I startle. His room? I had a roommate? He looks just as surprised as I do, but I guess nobody had bothered to tell him. _That or Near did and was too lazy, _I think bitterly, but swat the thought away - I had plenty of time to complain when I wasn't around cute redheads.

Err. Not cute. I didn't mean cute. I meant nice. Nice. Because I'm straight. And he's a boy. Obviously.

Matt grabs my bag off my shoulder, ignoring the protest I give him that I can do it myself - really I didn't mind, if he wanted to play good-guy-who-carries-bags then that was one less annoyance I had to deal with - and marched me off to his room, jabbering the whole way about how he had no idea he was gaining a roommate but he was glad that he was. I just follow him, munching on my little piece of Godiva heaven and following him to 666. Creepy that it was room 666 - hopefully that wasn't an omen or something. His hair WAS red - he could turn into a total maniac. Then again I've been told I'm kind of a maniac too, so…

The room is surprisingly extremely clean and nice, save for the mess of cords around the television area. "It's not usually this clean," Matt says admittedly, smiling uneasily. "I just cleaned yesterday." I nod - I'm not the cleanest person either, so whatever - and let him deposit my bags on the ground beside the bunk beds. I look up at my own bunk, which must be mind because the blankets weren't ruffled.

"So I'm up here?" I said a little uncertainly. Matt blinked at me. "Um…" I shuffle my feet, a little bit angry that I had to ask, then decide to just play it in the way that would avoid what I was really afraid of. "Can you take the top?"

Matt made a curious little smirk, then looked at the bed uncertainly. "I guess so… why's that?"

"No reason," I lie, going to smooth out the blankets that Matt had surely been sleeping in. "I just prefer bottom." Matt made a face, as if I'd just said something immensely perverted, and I glower at him. "If you make comment I'll slap you, that isn't what I meant and you know it."

"I wasn't suggesting it was," Matt said quickly, raising his hands, but I chuck the t-shirt that's sitting o the corner of the bed in his face anyway. "Oi', deserved that too… so what's the real reason?"

I sigh angrily, sitting on the bed and glowering at him. "None of your business," I say coldly, and I saw him falter. Hell, we weren't friends - he didn't need to know all my weird sleeping habits. I lied down on the bed and pulled out the chocolate bar and a book out of my bag. Ah, yes… _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. _I could read this all day.

Matt shrugged and climbed up the latter to the top bunk, and I felt him flop onto the bed and the twitter of video game music musing muffled from above. I smirked. Figured that he was a video games nerd with those goggles and that getup.

After a while I'm completely out of chocolate. I stare at the empty bar with a bewildered look, having nothing more to snap off, only little dusts of crumbs at the bottom. I frown and shuffle to sit up - I'd left my chocolate stash behind at my parents house. Ah. My parents. I wince as they flit through my mind, shoving them out of my head and concentrating on the chocolate problem before me.

"You out of chocolate?" I startle at Matt's voice as his head appears, peering over the edge. I raise my eyebrows as his eyes meet mine from upside-down, the goggles back on his eyes.

"Yep," I reply, giving him a pouty face, and he laughs. I smirk at him and cross my legs, waving the empty Godiva wrapper in his face. "And I need more."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "Can't you get it yourself?" I pause, then glower at him - as if I knew my way around! Matt laughed again - I was growing to like his laugh already - and disappeared back onto his bunk. I was about to demand that he at least tell me where the kitchen was when he makes his way down the latter, smiling. "I'll go get it, sit tight."

I blink, almost saying 'really?' but I stop myself, smirking at him again and laying against my pillow, reopening my book. "Get me four," I call after him, my smirk growing on my face,

He rolled his eyes and headed out the door, closing it carefully as to not make a slam. I snicker at him as he waltzes out of the room. Ah, yes. This was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.


	2. Love

There aren't very many things that L didn't understand. In fact, some would think that he understood everything, but that was far from true. One of the things he didn't understand was Love.

Love is just an emotion, really, a mix of lust and affection. That's how L always thought of it, anyway. And so when he started feeling this kind of affection for a particular teenager, he got a little scared. That's something L didn't feel often, fear. Affection was weakness. It was a terrible thing to feel, for a detective of his kind, and so was trust. But he wanted so badly to be able to trust him. TO be able to trust him and love him and be weak with him.

But that was impossible. Beyond impossible.

Because the one he loved was Light Yagami. And Light Yagami… was Kira.

He had to be. In L's mind, Light was the only one who could be Kira. There was nobody else it could be. He was smart, clever… perhaps, in a way, right now he wasn't Kira. Maybe he only used to be kira. But that didn't matter - he was once Kira and, if he wads right, he would be Kira once again.

So even chained to this person, he felt further from him than he ever was. It was impossible. L wanted to play with Light's hair, to talk to him about stupid frilly things like feelings, wanted to discuss pointless things like the weather and important things like cake. He just wanted to feel human, in a way. L had never wanted to feel human, but with Light Yagami he wanted to.

L Lawliet was scared, not of Light Yagami, but of himself. Afraid of the affection he felt for the other man, this younger man who could take his life away if he let one thing slip, made one mistake, let one little droplet of trust slip through.

"Ryuzaki, are you okay?"

L's head snapped up to look at the man sitting beside him. He looked concerned, his eyebrows creased, a frown on his face, and L sighed. "Of course, Light, I am fine. Why would I not be?"

Light looked at the other man carefully, brushing his hand through his hair and eyeing him uncertainly. "You haven't touched your cake," he told him. L blinked in surprise and looked down to find that this was true. The chocolate-flavored pastry was completely untouched, as was the sugar with coffee sitting beside it. And yes, you heard right - sugar with coffee, not the other way around with L. Never the other way around.

"Ah…" L said slowly, crouching forward and taking the fork in his hand, but he didn't eat the cake. For once, he just didn't want any. Not with Light looking at him like that, with the worry in this chocolate-colored brown eyes. L badly wanted to act on the feelings he had, to grab him and smash his lips to his, to make him know that L was human to, that he could love him right back.

But he couldn't. Because L was a rational person. He would never act on something he didn't understand. He couldn't. It wasn't within his control, somehow. He did not understand his feelings so why should he act on them?

"Are you sure you're okay?" Light pestered further, moving his hand to rest on L's. The urge to flinch away was urgent, but L resisted, averting his eyes from the brown-haired boy beside him, his face expressionless as usual.

"Of course, Light," L whispered, willing Light to move his hand away. He didn't like these feelings - he had shoved them to the back of his mind for as long as he could remember, feelings. Emotions. They were pointless. Especially these particular feelings - to feel affections for Light Yagami would be the most pointless affection of all. He should hate this boy. Hate him for being Kira, for being a heartless murder who was trying to lead him astray. Light had been especially kind to him lately, it was making it hard for the raven-haired man - especially since the brunette got out of his imprisonment and was chained to him.

It was making it painfully hard.

"Ryuzaki…" Light whispered his alias, clenching his teeth together and moving his hand away, clasping his hands together and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked extremely frustrated, and L looked at him a little guiltily. Was he wrong to suspect Light of being Kira? Surely not. In fact L was certain he had reason to suspect, though he wasn't 100 percent sure he was kira, but… to give him the benefit of the doubt would be absurd. "You don't trust me, do you, Ryuzaki?"

L shook his head honestly. "No, Light, I do not."

Light Yagami sighed, leaning back on the couch. "Can't be helped I guess…" he grumbled, sighing. For a long time they just sat there, pondering. Light pondering why L was so suspicious of him, wondering why he was acting so strangely, wondering why he wouldn't eat that cake, and wondering, if only for a moment, why it was he had fallen for the one boy who couldn't even love him back.

_A/N: AHHHH. Short and depressing much? XDD oh well. I'll try and make the next one fluffy. Try. No guarantees. XD sorry this is so short and crappy. I'm not used to writing these two yet .-. I've always loved them but this is only my second fanfic for these two, so…. Yeah 3_


	3. Light

"He's dead."

_Who was talking? Where am I…?_

"No shit, we shot him like eight times. Of course he's dead."

"What he gets. Interfering with Kira."

_Kira? Kira… that was such a kind name for a killer… right… the pain… I had gotten shot eight times. More than that, probably. Oh god… the pain… but why wasn't I in pain anymore? Why didn't it hurt anymore?_

"Well, we need to go help find Takada. Come on."

"Yeah, your right. That guy on the motorcycle.."

_Motorcycle.. Takada…_

_Mello._

I shot up, eyes wide, panic shooting through me. Where was I? What was today? I whirled and looked around. Cops were scattering and getting into their cars, ignoring the fact that I was getting to my feet. Was I no longer a threat? Hadn't I died just a few seconds ago?

Where in the hell was I?

I felt like featherweight as I turned around to look around. Oh, god, my CAR! I gasped as I looked at it, but it wasn't just my car that I felt horrible about, the bullet holes and blood splattered on the windows, but myself. There I was. Laying there, with bullet holes and blood and..

I was dead. The game was over.

Then who was I?

Of course. I was a ghost.

I laughed pathetically, looking at my hands. I almost expected them to be transparent, but of course, that would be rather cliché. My laughing didn't stop, and neither did the tears building in my eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mello," I whispered, horrible feelings retching up inside of me. I had died. I wasn't suppose to die… Mello had ordered me to make it out alive. But of course, Mello had to know that I was going to die - we both did.

_"Matt, do you remember what i told you what we have to do?" Mello said, sitting on the motorcycle. He was proud of that thing, proud as anything. It was his treasure. My treasure was him, and as i looked at him i almost couldn't bare to see him part with me. But i had my orders, and Mello's icy blue eyes were locked with mine. Forcing me to come to an understanding._

_I force a smile and squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. "I remember, Mells. I won't let you down."_

_Mello diddn't smile. He just looked at me with a look of grim understanding. He knew i understood what the look was - odds were, we were both gonna die. "I won't be coming back, Matt."_

_I smile. "Then i guess saying 'see you later' would be the wrong choice of words, huh, love?" I say quietly, brushing the hair from his eyes. For a moment i think i see doubt in his eyes. Regret. But I know it won't last. Mello is one of those people who has a fire. A fire that you can't put out with just water, you can't put out with anything. Anything you throw at it will simply lash back at you, fuel the fire to become even stronger and angrier. Nothing anyone could say would change his mind._

_"I love you," Mello said sternly, as if trying to convince me. His eyes were hard and icy, staring me straight in the eye. I nod and kiss him on the lips, softly and only for a moment before pulling away, slipping my hand off of his shoulder. "And Matt?" I blinked, looking at him expectantly. His eyes are determined and he reached for his rosary, closing his hand around it with determination. "I **will **be seeing you. Don't think that this is the end, okay?"_

_And in that moment i beleived him. Always i've been an athiest. That would probbly never change. But in that moment I beleived him with every atom in my body - Mello would fight his way through whatever Hell they tried to keep him in if that existed, and he'd break out of Heaven if he had to. We would be together. No matter what. "Okay," I whisper. "Good... goodbye, love."_

_Then Mello pulled the helment over his beautiful, scarred face and sat all the way down in the motorcycle before driving away. I couldn't stay to watch him dissapear. I had to forfill my part in the mission. I had to do it. With a shaking breath i turned to my car, that car i loved so much, and climbed in. "To the final boss," i whispered, knowing that if Mello were there he'd knock me over the head for being 'a game-obsessed idiot' and gunned the car. "I'll see you later, Mells."_

I close my eyes, trying to block out the painful memory. That was the last time i saw him. Mello....

Which reminded me. Mello.

_Fuck... Mello! _I think, running before I can think about it. I can hardly climb into my car - in fact, I go right through it as I run down the sidewalk towards the church. I knew where he was heading. That church we loved that day… that day we finally met up… that's where we stayed. What would he think when he found out that we would just turn into ghosts?

Then again, maybe not everyone did. Maybe I was just that suckish that God and Satan didn't want me. I don't know. I've never been a religious person, not like Mello. I'm not even sure if mello was. That rosary might just be for badass-show. I'd never asked.

So much I'd never asked.

The church comes into my sight long before it normally would, since technically i had run miles. But i guess ghosts can do that. I did't stop to ponder it, breaking through the clearing and... I choke on my own voice before I let out a scream. The church was on fire. ON FIRE! Tears build in my eyes as I sprint forward, almost surprised that I felt tired - apparently even ghosts needed endurance - but I didn't care, running silently to the church and through the fire, not feeling the burns I would have gotten if I were still alive. Mello. Mello must be in there and there was nothing I could do.

"MELLO!" I scream, but I know nobody can hear me, not even him. I'm dead now. I already lost the game of life to Takada's bodyguards. But now… I saw the truck that I knew that bitch Takada was. And Mello. Mello was in there. I reached to throw the truck door open but my hands simply slipped through the handle, choking on tears. Ghosts can cry…. How cliché…

I don't need to open the door to see Mello. Already gone, I can see him, his eyes closed. You hear people talk about people looking peaceful when they die, but not Mello. Never expected him to. He looked… pissed. Looked absolutely pissed.

I just stood there, watching the fire claim the rest of him. Finishing what it started.

I knew this would happen. I knew from the very moment that Mello told me we were going to work on the Kira case that we were going to die eventually. And i knew how as soon as he told me the plan. I had been expecting this. So why... why.... why was this so painful now?

I knew why. It was because I loved him.

Tears slowly slide down my cheeks. I realize with a laugh that I can feel them. I can't feel anything else, but I can feel my own tears as they drip from my chin, disappearing at my feet. "Mello…" I whisper, feeling my own voice shaking. Mello had seen this coming, I knew he did - he knew that he had given up for Near. Before he left me, there was no doubt. No "it'll be okay." No lies. He knew. He just looked me right in the eye and said "I love you, Matt." Just like that. And then he drove away to…

To what? This? For what? Near, the boy who he had always hated? For the title of number one, which had always taunted him, never to be obtained? For the world, that had treated him so cruelly?

"Stop your crying, Matty. No need to turn into a softie now."

I freeze cold at the voice behind me, eyes widening as I spin around, eyes wide. I knew that voice. I would know it anywhere. And I knew that smirk, that face, that beautiful, beautiful face. I knew that perfect skin and those icy blue eyes. And I knew that angelic long, messy blonde hair, and I knew t hat expression and that he was trying not to cry himself but was just too stubborn. Just like he always was.

"Mello," I whisper, my voice cracking, my jaw trembling in effort to stop my sobs. Mello sighed and rolled his eyes, opening his arms to invite me in. I don't need any more consent - I sprint forward and glomp him, flinging my arms around him. Relishing in the feeling of his warmth against me, my fingers tangling in his hair. I feel his shuddering sigh in my ear, his arms wrapping around my waist, and I feel tears drip onto my neck and know he's crying too. "Mello…. I love you, I love you…" I whisper shakily, unable to stop myself from repeating the sweet nothings in his ear. "I love you, Mello… I love you so much…"

The blonde sighed, nuzzling his face in the crook of my neck, making me feel like we were children again. "I'm so sorry, Matty…" he whispered painfully, choking on tears. "I'm so sorry I got you killed."

I shake my head and pull away from him, searching his pained blue eyes, watching the unfamiliar liquid streaming down his cheeks. He never cried, so rarely he cried… but we'd both died, after all. He had all the rights to cry. With a shuddering sigh I shake my head again, brushing my hair away from his now perfect face, smiling kindly when I realize his scar is gone all over again, the porcelain-perfect skin back w here it rightfully belonged. "It doesn't matter, Mello," I whispered, wiping a tear from his cheek gently. "We're together now."

"I'm sorry though… anyway…." Mello whispered, breaking the record for the number of times he's said sorry in a day, wiping his eyes with his wrist and sniffling angrily, forcing a smile. "Let's get out of here, okay? I'm getting all girly just standing around in this burning church."

I laugh and kiss him on the forehead. "Okay. And Mells?" Mello looked up at me questioningly, and I smile sadly at him. "I'm sorry we didn't make it to Heaven… or whatever."

Mello surprised me by letting out a giggle, intertwining his fingers in mine. "Don't be silly, Matt - I'm fine… with you," he said, a little uncertainly, then looked up at me with seriousness in his eyes. "You're all the light I need."

A wave of warmth hits me and I cup his face in my hands, leaning forward and pressing my lips against his. Mello doesn't need any more initiative than that, pressing his lips on mine just as passionately. I don't even have to ask for permission before parting his lips, exploring his mouth in the way that I al ways did. _He still tastes like chocolate, _I mused silently, pulling him closer against me. We're like this for a long time, but apparently even ghosts need to stop for air, pulling away from each other and taking gulps of air, Mello's face burning.

After a second I feel a grin cross my face, and he glowers at me irately, still himself as always. "What're you grinning like an idiot for?"

"Nothing just…" the smile widens before I can help it, unable to keep a straight face. "I don't think I've ever heard you say something so cheesy."

Mello stares at me for a long moment before smacking me on the arm. "I hate you." I laugh outwardly and take off, knowing it won't be long before Mello catches me and demands I apologize, but I don't mind. All our arguments will end in tickle fights anyway, to make the best of this sweet piece of forever…

_A/N: This was way more fun than it should have been. *face palm* Ummm… wel, yeah. XD I'm so obsessed w ith this couple, so I figured I'd write this cheesy thing for them. I promised happiness, and really this is kind of depressing but not at the same time. If that makes sense. Which it does't. But screw you. D: _

…_.8D and then Matt and Mello had ghostie smex the end! *sparkle sparkle*_


	4. Dark

"B, you need to get up now."

The young boy didn't reply, simply staying buried in the blankets of his bed. He knew this would happen. He had seen it, with his eyes. Those eyes had told him that A would die that day, but…

Somehow he just hadn't seen it coming that he would kill himself.

"B. Please wake up. Please? We're really begging here."

Instead of replying the L-copycat pulled the blankets further over his head, not giving Roger the courtesy of a reply. Why should he? It wasn't any of his business. Like L, B had restricted his emotions to the back of his head… but weather or not he let himself admit it, really he wasn't as good at doing it as L was. It made him horrible. It made him sick. It made him dark.

Beyond felt a tiny smile creep on his lips as he remembered A. He wasn't like B. He couldn't take what everyone had expected him to do, couldn't take the pressure of other people. Foolish of Beyond, though. Foolish of him to try and convince A.

"_A, please!" B begged, clutching A's arm. "I don't care what the shinigami eyes say! You can't kill yourself, it's not fair!" Beyond cursed himself for letting his voice grow shrill, cursed himself for the tears that built in those cursed eyes of his. A was the only one who knew about the eyes that he had, and sometimes B didn't think that A believed him._

"_If I'm going to die today anyway, why delay it?" A whispered harshly, shoving B's hand off of his shoulder. Beyond choked on air, shivering at the coldness that A was showing him now. A had always been his friend - perhaps more than his friend, almost. They understood each other, in a dark sense. They understood the torched of being under L, of trying to become another person. Of being the test dummies for the making of an L copy._

_Beyond reached forward and grabbed his arm again, this time digging his fingernails into his pale skin. A flinched and spun around, eyes wide - B had never hurt him intentionally like this, but now Beyond was shaking with fury and was glaring at him. But A was not fooled - he could see the tears in the younger boys eyes, the wrath on the L-mirror's face betrayed by his eyes and the tremble in his voice as he yelled, "You can't go talking about killing yourself! It's not fair! What about me!?" _

_A almost felt bad. But he was going to die anyway - he had seen the look B gave him when he told him. Had seen Beyond's face as he whispered what he knew. He would have known without being told - B had been so gentle lately, so kind, too nice to him for about a month now. He knew the end was near._

"_You can't cheat the gods of death," A had whispered, brushing his hands through the raven hair of his best friend. "And besides… nobody needs just another copy. You've already beaten me."_

_B shook his head angrily, shoving A to the ground out of no where. A gasped and hit the ground, looking at Beyond in shock as A tackled him, pinning him to the ground with angry tears burning his eyes. He could see the message in red above his head, could see the lifespan there but… he didn't want to believe it. He couldn't. He refused…_

_He was being stupid and he knew it._

"_You're not allowed to die, A! What will happen to me!" B demanded, digging his fingernails into A's shoulders. "You're the only one who will understand me! Nobody does! Only you! You're the only one who will understand what it's like… what it's like to try and become someone who you don't even know! When you're meant to idolize someone you've never once even met!" A felt sympathy swell in his stomach for the other boy, shaking his head and trying to dislodge him, but to no avail - B was stronger by far than he looked. "I… I… you know I can't love you, A, it's not how it works," B whispered desperately, brushing the light gray hair from A's face and looking into the gray-blue eyes that he had memorized, "But you're as close as I can get. Don't… don't leave me."_

_A almost sobbed. But A had lost any emotion. He had wasted all his tears. And so he just hugged the younger boy and held him tight, feeling him shudder against him. "I can't, B. I'm sorry," A whispered, picking B up as he stood. B normally could have fought to keep A pinned down, but he didn't, simply staying limp in A's arms. _

"B, get up. You have to focus on your studies still - you can't give up just because A is dead," came Rogers voice again, now angrier. B shifted under the covers, clenching his teeth in irritation. He wanted to kill him. But that would be useless - Roger had plenty of life left. He could see it dancing above Rogers head, the day he would die. And it wasn't today.

And so B ignored him, closing his eyes again. He blamed L. Perhaps it was stupid to blame L, but he did. He blamed that man for everything, for torturing him, for taunting him silently from his number one spot, for being the first, for making him the copy, for putting him through this. Most of all, he blamed him for the death of A. With a shiver he dug his fingernails into his palms, squeezing his eyes shut again. He felt blood draw from his palms and in a way, it made him feel good.

He wondered quietly if he could kill himself, too, like A could. He didn't know. He couldn't see his own death, he'd tried so many times. He didn't know how long he had left. He didn't know. He didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore.

Roger sighed and walked out, giving up. B would come out when he was ready, he figured. He was never one to stay still for too long. He'd come out, even if A was dead, he wasn't one of those to give up.

But B wanted to. He wanted to give up. But he couldn't. He couldn't forget that night. He couldn't loose himself now.

_It was silent in the stairwell as they took the metal stairs to the roof, B clutching A's hand as they made their way to the roof. In a way, it was peaceful. For a moment, B let himself forget what they were going to the roof to do. Pretended, for just a moment, that they were going up there to talk, or to tease, or to talk, or to challenge each other, or to play pranks on Wammy._

_But he knew such foolish thoughts were childish and pointless._

_They reached the roof too soon, the wind whisking around them and kicking leaves up, the cold night air slicing through B like a knife, the white shirt he wore doing nothing to protect him from the bitterness of this night. He didn't want it to - he intended to feel every single bitter feeling, every touch, every pain this night._

_A turned slowly to him, his blue-grey eyes holding no fear in their depths. It made B want to be sick. There was no turning back now, and A knew it - there was no denial. Nothing stopping his almost-love from leaving him this night._

"_I'll miss you," B said honestly, taking A's hand carefully in his. A forced a smile that turned out to just be a grimace, but it was enough for B - the two of them hardly ever shared emotions at all. In fact, this was a rare occurrence - they almost never smiled except just between the two of them. _

"_I will miss you as well, B," A said quietly, brushing B's messy bangs from his eyes. B wanted to cry, to sob, to beg him not to leave him - true emotions. Human emotions. But B had had enough of those. So instead he stood on his tip toes and brushed his lips against A's, just barely, just enough to maybe show him how much he wished. How much he wished he could care. How much he wished he could love him as much as A deserved._

_B moved away and A took a step back, turning to look out over the landscape past the orphanage. B suddenly jerked forward, grabbing his hand before he could move towards the ledge any further, even though he knew that he wouldn't jump without any warning, squeezing his hand as the wind sent ice down his spine. "Beyond Birthday," he whispered shakily, shivering._

_Slowly the other boy turned to Beyond his eyes sad and understanding as B's real name was told to him. A sighed and brushed the raven-haired man's bangs away from Beyond's face, which was now stony with determination. "Beyond Birthday. That is an original name," he whispered. "You already know mine, don't you?"_

"_Yeah," B whispered. But he c couldn't bring himself to say it as it danced above A's head, because with it he could see his death. He wanted so badly to cling to doubt, but he couldn't. So instead he let his hand, releasing A from his grasp for the final time. "Goodbye, A."_

_A smiled a soft, slight smile, barely noticeable unless you peered close. But Beyond saw it. He saw it with certainty because he knew him. He knew him better than anyone, and A knew him right back. And it pained him, because nobody would ever know him like A did. Nobody else could see past the blackness that invaded B's soul at such a young age._

"_Goodbye to you too, B," A whispered, taking a step back so that his feet only barely balanced on the ledge. For a moment, just a split second, there was natural, human fear striking A, like lightning, warning him as to what he was doing. But the fear slipped away just as fast as it had come, came to nothing but understanding as B returned his gaze._

_For a moment B stared at him, trying to memorize every centimeter of him before it was too late. Trying to know every single inch of him, from the gray, almost black messy hair to the L-copy clothes to the gray-blue eyes that were almost soulless in looks to the determination, the understanding in those deep pools that looked back at him. And for a moment B wished. For a moment, there was a tiny light through the darkness, and he whispered, "I love you."_

_And then A was gone, dropping off of the roof. He didn't hear B, didn't hear the whispered plea that escaped his lips, but it d idn't matter. The other boy already knew. _

_B watched the empty air where A was for a long time. He heard the thump. The crack. He didn't have to peer over the edge to know that A's neck had broken, that now he was dead, and that soon Wammy and Roger would be outside to gasp in horror and try to rush him to a hospital, and he didn't have to check to know it would be a lost effort. Because the letters above A's head were gone, just like him._

_And for a slight moment, a tear rolled down B's cheek, but B did not feel sadness. He simply stood there, watching the emptiness where the other boy once stood, for a moment not understanding where the other boy had gone. But he knew. He knew he was gone. And he was appalled, almost - appalled and amazed... how easily people could die. __Slowly B's tears were gone, his sadness replaced by a blank look, his bangs covering his eyes for a long moment. And then, slowly, a smile creeped across B's face - not the kind smile he shared with A, not the sad smile he shared with nobody but his reflection, but a cruel smile that he shared with the empty night air._

_And then he turned away from the scene and headed back to the stairwell, no longer feeling the cold wind whipping through his hair as darkness swallowed him whole._

So no. Not with that memory could B give up. Not just yet could B loose himself in this dark game he had suddenly created in his own mind.

He could only give up when the time came. Slowly he reached up and covered his mouth, a smile inching across his lips. He would win at all costs. He _would _have his revenge.

_A/N: Ummm… not really sure where this came from actually. A's mentioned, like, once, in "Another Note" …so I had to make up a discription for him…. XD but I really just wanted to do this so… LOVE ME EVEN IF U HATE MY RANDOM SHIPPING *la* and now I must flee and hope my grandma lets me sneak again tomorrow ;D bye~_


	5. Seeking Solace

"M-Matty?"

I groan and turn in my sleep, burying my face in my pillow and squeezing my eyes tighter shut. I felt a hand touch my shoulder and shake me slightly and I groan louder, not wanting to get up. "Mello…. No chocolate runs right now… I'm sleepppy…" I complain loudly.

There's silence for a few moments, then, "Matty, please?"

I peeked from my pillow and am surprised to find Mello staring down at me with watery blue eyes, his usual stony, fury-bound facade shattered, shivering with cold. I blink in surprise and look at him with wide eyes, watching him shuffle his feet lingering on the latter. "Wh-what's the matter, Mells?" I ask quickly, brushing the hair from his face on instinct. Mello shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut.

"J-just… just a stupid dream," Mello chokes out, trying to sound tough, but he's failing miserably and he knows it. I sigh, giving him a soft smile and opening my arms, motioning for him to come. He looks at me suspiciously, blue eyes flickering.

"Come on," I say gently, nodding to the bed beside me and scooting to make room for him. "You can sleep up here with me."

For a second I'm uncertain that's what Mello wants - he's always been anti-touchy-feely, especially lately for some reason, but he seems to give in and fall into my arms and nuzzle his face into my neck. "Thanks, Matt."

I smile, hugging him close. I wish I knew why he was so upset, but I decided not to ponder on it. "That's fine, Mell," I whisper honestly, patting his back a bit awkwardly. I wanted to smother him in kisses, honestly, but that was hardly an option since Mello'd probably bite me in response, even if we did have feelings for each other. He was still Mr. hostile-tough-guy…uke. But that was a totally different story.

Mello sighs and moves away from me, curling into the blankets. His eyes are still red with tears, sniffing rather cutely and rubbing his eyes. I can tell he's even more exhausted than I am as he mutters, "You better not tell anyone about this… I'll beat your brains in…""Oh, I'm shaking in my boots," I whisper teasingly, daring a kiss on his cheek before laying down beside him. Matt shot me a half-hearted glare, but there's a tiny smile on his lips to contradict it.

After a long time of staring at the ceiling I feel Mello scoot closer to me, rolling to rest his chin on my chest. I blink in surprise, finding big blue eyes looking up at me, looking like an abandoned kitten or something. A tiny blush crosses my lips, his fingers inching up to rest on my chest. "Matty, do you love me?"

"Yes." No hesitation - I've known that was the truth for a long time. Mello smiles at me, blue eyes glittering with relief. "Why do you ask?"Mello sighed and he nuzzled closer to me, smiling softly. "Just making sure."

I smile despite myself, piecing through the angel-soft blonde hair that was Mello's with a tiny sigh of content. Mello continues looking up at me with wide blue eyes, fingers tracing along my collarbone in a rather enticing way, making my heart rate quicken a little bit. Did he even realize what he did to me?A smile crept further across Mello's perfect face, brightening his already flawless features as he nuzzled closer to me. "You know… I was dreaming about my parents," Mello whispered, tracing further along my collar bone slower than before. I blink, a little surprised - Mello almost never mentioned his past. But yet Mello kept talking, eyes closing a little. "I… really loved them…." he whispered shakily, gripping my shoulder almost painfully, but I dare not to flinch as to interrupt him. "I really… did… but when they died… I just… kept on living. Their corpses… were right there… that entire time…"

I blinked, shuddering. He couldn't possibly mean.. but he did. "I went on living in that house… faring just fine… cooking for myself and cleaning… and kissing my mother and father goodnight every night…. And my baby sister…" his voice broke down and he cried silently into my shirt, over the edge of holding himself back. My eyes widen and I pull him closer to me, to let him know he can stop, but he's only getting louder. "I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it, Matt! I really didn't… I didn't mean to kill him… I didn't mean to kill my father! I didn't mean it… but he killed… he k-killed her…he…."

Panic rose in Mello's eyes, as if he were reliving what was happening, clutching closer to me and shaking in desperate need. I bite my lip, still caught off guard by his sudden outbursts. Taking another shaky breath Mello continues, quieter now, "My daddy… he killed my baby sister… and my mom… so I.. cut his neck open," he whispered, his voice dark and almost scary. I shiver a little, imagining it without meaning to. Mello at eight, killing his own father. It was hard to imagine.

"I'm sorry, Mells," I whispered, stroking his hair carefully. Mello shakes his head, nuzzling closer to me and closing his eyes, taking shuddering breaths. I bit my lip. This was so out of character for him… I felt really scared suddenly, not for myself but for the cowering little blonde in my arms.

"There's… a lot of blood in people, Matt…" Mello whispered quietly, sitting up suddenly. I still keep my arms around him as he stares down at me, blue eyes glittering. "More than you'd think." I blinked, eyes growing round, and sit up too, holding him close to me. He looks panicked, pained, scared… haunted, almost.

I brush the hair from his eyes, kissing a tear away from his eyes as it falls, making him shiver. "Shhh… Mello…." I whisper quietly, kissing the tears as they fall, giving in to my previous impulse and feeling glad that Mello doesn't push me away. "Don't cry like that… it's so unlike you…"Mello sniffed. "I know. Blue's not a good color on me," he muttered, nuzzling closer to me and forcing a smirk. "Don't you agree?"

I laugh quietly, brushing the hair from his eyes, unable to stop the chuckle despite myself. "I don't know about that, but I do agree that that was the gayest metaphor ever," I whisper teasingly, earning myself a punch in the stomach that I deserved, but at least now Mello's laughing.

"I hate you," Mello whispered, "Idiot."

I smile, glad that the depressing mood was broken. "I love you, too." Even as I whisper this, though, kissing his forehead softly, I can't quite dislodge the image of Mello, covered in his fathers blood. And I know I shouldn't ponder on the subject… but it's too horrific… almost too unpleasant to vanquish from my mind.

Mello smiled and leaned forward, suddenly kissing me. I'm surprised at first, the his lips almost desperate as they push against mine. I don't let myself hesitate, leaning forward to deepen this kiss and tangling my fingers in his hair. Giving in to the feeling of his kiss I shove the bad thoughts out of my mind, parting his lips and exploring his mouth. He tastes like chocolate and… Mello. Just like Mello, which is mostly like chocolate. Mello let's out a delectable moan as I inched my fingers down his back to his waist, not hesitating to force him even closer to me.

Breaking the kiss for a moment Mello takes a breath, eyes glassy. I smirk at him and let my kiss go to his cheek to along his jaw, stopping to nibble at his ear. Mello giggles despite himself, pushing me away, and I smirk at him again. "You're so ticklish."

Mello's eyebrows raise. "Less talk, more kissing," he hisses, back to his old self in a single snap, pushing back against me, pressing his hands on my chest. I smirk into our kiss, breaking it and earning a discontented moan from Mello as my kisses inch from his jaw to down his neck, stopping to nibble where his neck meets his shoulder. "D-d-dammit, Matty, stop th-that!" Mello gasps, and I grin, continuing to kiss and lick at the tender area around the nape of his neck. More moans.

"Dammit, Matt," Mello hisses, more serious now, pushing me away. I frown, discontented by the movement and sudden change of attitude, but Mello gives me a pouty look. "Don't turn me on now, it's three A.M. and there's testing tomorrow."

I laugh despite myself, rolling my eyes. "You call ME a nerd," I mock teasingly, poking him in the ribs. "Listen to yourself - 'I don't have time for sex, I have testing tomorrow!'" I mimic his voice exaggeratedly and it ears me a glower, but it was worth seeing the irritated, pouty look on his face. I laugh. "It's fine, really," I say, patting his head. "I'm sleepy too."

Mello smiles happily, blue eyes glittering with content. I can tell he really is sleepy, his eyes glassy. "Mm," he sighs, giving me one last peck on the cheek before flopping back on the pillow. I sigh. _I guess that's what I get for finding the girly-tendencies guy to sex it up with, huh? _I think, but I don't regret it, either, as I lay down beside Mello. "Goodnight, Matty.""Goodnight, Mello."

For a long moment, we're silent, and I almost fall asleep when Mello peeks one eye open and whispers, "Matty?""Yes, Mello?"

Mello's smile turns into a tiny smirk and he closes his eyes again, the innocence on his face ruined by the whisper that escapes his lips. "We can have as much rough sex as you want tomorrow night, alright? To make up for it…" Mello takes this moment of all moments to flip over and block my view of him, nuzzling into the pillows. "Love ya, nighty night."

I stare at him, left hanging on the flirty words. Well, hell. Now I'd never fall asleep.

_A/N: well, so much for a sweet innocent comfort fic. Oh well. Too bad for you poor fan girls (like me) this is a oneshot, so you'll never get to see that rough sex 8D TOO BAD FOR YOU (and Matty)._


	6. Break Away

I was crazy.

I didn't really know it then, was too crazy to recognize my own insanity, too beyond help to see the horror in the mirror that the tiny voice in the back of my head, long silenced by my ambition and darkness that haunted my soul saw. That everyone who cared to look far enough, who cared to peer through the mask of the perfect student, the loving son, the ambitious man who worked hard as an investigator… anyone would see the monster that had awoken in me.

L saw it. I know he did - I had always seen it. He had never trusted me, not completely, even when I had put the monster to sleep along with my memories of being Kira. Kira… what an innocent-sounding name for a monster. For a murderer.

Perhaps I had my reasons. I mean, the reasons I suppose were sane enough. I was saving the world. I know now that I was going about it the wrong way… but I was playing god. Manipulating the world with the help of only a notebook and my own mind. The only thing that stood in my way was him. That raven haired boy who saw right through my mask. He knew I was Kira. He just couldn't prove it to the blind people around me who only saw me skin deep.

I thought he was the only one who could see it. But then I met his successors. I never met Mello or Matt, but I know that they were clever - maybe they would have beat me too, if they'd had the chance to. But I met Near. That boy, he scared me - he was so much like L that I felt almost afraid of him. Or at least I would have, had my insanity not blinded me. I suppose it had always made me blind - blind to the people I was killing, blind to the true love I still felt for the raven-haired man who was chained to me, blind to my own reflection in the mirror. I didn't see the obvious intelligence in his eyes - I only saw an L-copy, someone who could never, in my eyes, beat me.

But he did beat me. They beat me, Near and Mello, I suppose you'd say they. Or he, if you wanted to refer to L. It was L all along who beat me.

I died that day. It was not a beautiful death. People talk about their loved ones dying quietly, peacefully… I died a monster. I died desperate, screaming for the people who I had dragged into this with me, for those I had no real affection or mercy for, even if they were on my side. I demanded that people see what the monster in me saw.

And then I died. I died a shameful, bloody, horrific, crazy death. I died at the hands of the very being that handed me the monster. That unknowingly turned me into Kira. Ryuk wrote down my name, just as he promised, and it was all over. The monster, along with Light Yagami, was dead.

As I lay there, on the hard cement of the building, hearing my own heartbeat in my chest start to stop, seeing Ryuk blur away above me, I expected to see my life flash before my eyes, like they always say it will in movies. But I didn't see anything. I just saw the world start to fade away, and I remembered what Ryuk told me. There would be no Heaven or Hell for me. This would be the end.

Everything went black, and the last thing I thought of was a raven haired man I had come too be familiar with, smiling victoriously in my direction. "You win, L," I say silently in my mind. "You win."

**

The pain vanished before I knew it. Everything was so bright, and I heard the familiar woosh-woosh of the fans overhead. I was still in the warehouse… why?

I sat up, startled, expecting to feel my heart pounding in my chest, but I felt nothing, my eyes searching the warehouse frantically. Everything was gone. There was blood everywhere… my blood. With horror I realize what I've done, sitting there, and I realize that I should be dead. No, I correct myself - I was dead.

I whirl, expecting to see my own body below me, but there is only a pool of blood. _They took my body. _I think, a bit flattered. _Even after all I did to them, they still take my body for respects._ I feel a wave of nausea and cover my face, horror in my mind. I almost killed them. I would have killed them, without even a blink. In fact I would have laughed - laugh that horrible monster of a laugh I had obtained. "I AM GOD!" I imagined myself crackling, victory in my voice, "I WIN!"

In fact I did say that. The 'I win' part. How embarrassing, my death was. I looked like such a fool. Probably rightfully - I was a fool, really. Not in academics or IQ but in morals… I was a fool. I feel a smile inch on my face. L was right about me. Now, with my mind clear, I can see past the horrible monster that was Kira, that was me with the Death Note.

I wondered what he would say if he could see me now. Another wave of nausea. If I wasn't a ghost, I would have vomited.

"Light, you shouldn't be able to get sick as a spirit, that is implausible."I whirl around, my old habit of being instantly on my guard kicking in. But as soon as I see him I relax. "Hello, L," I whisper, gazing up at the raven haired man who was peering down at me. I'm shocked he doesn't look angry - in fact, he's smiling that weird little smile on his panda face, hunched over and staring at me intensely with those gray, dead-looking eyes that were somehow full of life despite their dead color."How are you this day, Light?" L said casually, biting his thumb thoughtfully. I raise my eyebrows, a little caught off guard. Wasn't he going to yell at me? Or at least ask me why I killed him?

But he probably already knew that, on that note…

"Not so hot," I tell him honestly, smiling despite myself. Why did I feel so lightweight and happy? I should be depressed. "I did sort of just die in the most humiliating way possible."

"Not true," L cuts in, shaking his head, "You could have died in a ballerina suit singing 'Hips Don't Lie.'"I stare at him. Well, he had me there.

God, I did miss him. It was strange, that realization that I had missed him - that little, still innocent part of me that was buried in the back of my head, the part that still saw the world as I did before Kira… the Light Yagami that I should have been had missed him. Missed his weirdness, the way he held things like they were disgusting, the way he constantly ate sweet things, the way he always had clever comebacks, the way he could actually outsmart him, and the way he smiled. He didn't smile often, but when he did it made Light happy. He never really realized to what extent before… but it did.

"I'm sorry I killed you," I whispered painfully. L blinked thoughtfully at me, then shook his head.

"No, you are not," he replies earnestly, making me flinch. "That was simply a way to win your game, Light. You shouldn't be so ashamed of it." I looked at him, puzzled, and he shrugs. "What's done is done."

"Well, I'm still sorry," I sniff, a little pissed at his carefree attitude when I was trying to apologize, but he only continues to stare at me, still sitting like he always did.

"Okay," L replies after a while, standing up. I watch him with my eyes, sudden panic forming in my chest. He wasn't leaving me, right? Obviously the raven-haired man saw my panicked gaze because he reaches out a hand to me. "Come now, Light, you've just died. I'm not going to leave you here."I pause, staring at his hand suspiciously before taking it. "So… you're not mad?"L pauses for a moment before smiling that creepy-yet-cute smile at me. "Nope - I'm furious," he replies simply, pulling me to my feet. "But I don't feel emotion, remember?" I scoff at this, knowing it isn't true, and he grins. "Besides, I'm sure Mello will be there to beat the living… or… rather, not living, daylights out of you when we find him."I shudder at this - I had never actually met Mello, but I could imagine how angry he would be when he found out I was Kira. I squeeze L's hand, clenching my teeth, and the other boy smiles. "I'm really not mad at you, no need to make that face. I'm only… um, teasing, I believe it's called." I stare at him bewilderedly - L, teasing? The world was surely ending. L shrugged. "Matt is teaching me."

Matt. That's the first time I'd heard that name. I wondered briefly if he was the boy who helped in the kidnapping of Takada, but I shoo that thought aside. "Well, I'll be sure to see how well that goes," I say unsurely, rolling my eyes. That lightweight feeling in my chest hasn't gone away - I know I should be mourning my own death at this point. Or begging for forgiveness from L. Or fleeing this Mello person at least. But I couldn't make myself hold on to my worries - maybe that's just a bonus of death. _You're dead, but hey, at least you don't have to worry!_

I realize L is studying me carefully, eyes searching mine. "Is Kira still in there?" he whispered suspiciously out of no where, making me jump in surprise.

"Huh?""I asked if Kira was still in there," he restates, poking my forehead as if to lure "Kira" out of my head. I frown at him suspiciously. He sighed. "What I mean to say is, Light, have you discovered the error of your ways? Are you still Kira?"I blink, understanding slowly, and I nod uncertainly. "I think so," I tell him unsurely, "I don't have this overstated urge to kill you anymore, if that's what you mean," L gave me a weird look, but I figured it was just in response to memories.

"So this is okay then?" L said after a moment, and before I really realize what he's doing his arms have snaked their way around my neck and he's pulled me in, pressing his lips on mine. I'm surprised at the warmth I feel off him - we are ghosts after all - and tense up. L was kissing me, just like before… when I lost my Kira memories, and for a while even… all my conscious denial dissolves and I let myself be swept into the kiss, returning the pressure. L smirks into the kiss, which surprises me a little, and releases me, breaking away before I want him to.

I open my mouth to protest when L pulls away, still holding my hand, his eyes narrowed. "So that was okay, then?" he repeats bluntly. I blink.

"Well, yeah!" I blurt, which earns me a blush on me and L, who I could tell was trying not to act embarrassed but what failing miserably. I cross my arms over my chest, a little self conscious for no reason. "So… that's okay with you too, then?"L blinks. "Yes, that is 97% okay with me," he replies. Ah, yeah. Still L.

And then he grabs my other hand and pulls me close again, and this time I don't hesitate to return the kiss he gives me. This was how it was suppose to be. And suddenly, however ridiculous that may be… I've never felt more alive.

* * *

**_A/N: LOL YAY_**

**_THIS STORY DOESN'T FIT THE DAMN PROMPT VERY WELL BUT I DON'T GIVE A DAMN :D_**

**_....don't murer me for making this so lame XD i couldn't think of anything orgional and though idon't like how this turned out i'm too lazy 2 redo it... ^^;_**


	7. Heaven

_A/N: Ahhhh, fuck, it's lemon. O.o this is really not that good at all, sorry. I felt awkward writing the whole thing, but I felt like I had to XDD *flails* So… if you don't like buttsecks, then don't read this, thanx. Ohhhh, and… :C sorry if I get stuff wrong and shit, I'm no good at this kind of stuff XDDD *Flails again* Anyway… ENJOY D:_

"Mello, what will Heaven be like?"I looked up from what I was reading to look at Matt. I was sitting on his lap on our obnoxiously ugly yellow couch that we didn't have the heart to get rid of (Too many memories on that couch, I guess. It used to be pretty. Honest.), his arms wrapped around my waist. Usually I don't like cuddling like this, but Matt was in a touchy-feely mood and I didn't have the heart to say no when he asked me to sit on his lap. Besides, stubborn as I was, I really didn't mind all that much. (Shhh, don't tell Matt, he'll want to do it more often.) I notice quietly that he's stroking the rosary on my chest, a soft look on his face, green eyes thoughtful with the goggles pushed to the top of his head.

I smirk at him, yawning before replying to him, "I don't know. Really awesome, I guess."

Matt made a face. "Yeah, but…" he said slowly, thoughtfully. I knew Matt was an atheist - I wasn't really that religious myself, I just wore the rosary because of my childhood with a Christian family, though it was comforting thinking that someone was up there watching out for me (stupid and girly as that sounds), so the atheist thing didn't bother me at all. It was odd though, him suddenly brining up religion like this. He speaks up a gain before I can. "I mean… what do you think, really?"

I sigh and nuzzle closer into his arms. "Why are you asking this all of a sudden, Matty?" I whisper, brushing my hand across his chest. I know the reason though - ever since the explosion that took half my face, Matt had been obsessed with death. I knew he didn't have a particular opinion of it, but I could tell he was scared of it. Maybe not afraid of dying, more of loosing the people he cared about. Aka.. Me. Augh. He's such a sap.

(I love him anyway. But don't tell him that, he'll think I'm a sap, too.)

Matt smiles and kisses me without any real warning, but I let him, returning the kiss eagerly. He'd been really into random displays of affection lately, too - I guess he just needed to let me know, somehow, that he really cared about me. I let out a shiver as his fingers slide from my cheek and down my chest to rest on my bare waist, his tongue prodding my lips as always asking for permission. I smirk, unable to help myself, and part my lips, granting him entrance. We'd kissed so many times we had a rhythm going, tongues dancing and exploring in each others mouths. He tastes like nicotine, like always - I always bicker about that, but really I don't mind. It doesn't really taste bad. I wonder briefly, as he deepens the kiss, if it's possible to get a nicotine addiction by making out continuously with a chain-smoker.

I decide not to ponder it as he jerks at the zipper on my vest. Turns out two geniuses weren't enough to pull down a jammed zipper and we end up having to break the kiss to pull it over my head. I snicker at the challenge, plunging back into him as soon as the vest is flung from me, grinding against him as usual. He was pinned against the couch for now - though this wouldn't last - and I sit up, bending down to deepen the kiss. Matt's kiss is almost desperate, his fingers running down my spine and making me shiver.

My pants are off before I know what hit me - and annoyingly enough before his shirt even comes off, that bastard - and I'm completely naked without them, commando as usual, exposing the hard on I hadn't realized was there.

Matt breaks the kiss, pushing me down on the ugly couch carefully but roughly all the same, grinning. "I wonder what the angels would think of this…?" he mused with a chuckle, kissing my neck. I shiver, biting back a moan as he kisses and nips down my shoulders to my chest. "I'm sure they're all just jealous of u--UUUS, GOD MATTY!" Half way through my teasing reply Matt's hand somehow finds its way to my twitching member below, making me moan despite myself, his fingers brushing against it's tip unexpectedly, making him smirk.

I don't protest as he inches away from me, going down on me before I even have the chance to finish what I'm saying. I shiver with pleasure as Matt takes me into his mouth. He does this without complaint, and I don't hold back, bucking without really meaning to into the warmth of his mouth, letting out a moan. Matt doesn't choke - he has no gag reflex, though he does shift, careful as always not to nick me with his teeth.

I'm seeing white before I know it, my vision blurring with pleasure, letting out another moan, louder this time. I could tell the neighbors would probably be complaining later, but I decide not to care. "MATTY!" I cry, all resolve not to show weakness disappearing, shuddering again.

I let out a gasp as Matt suddenly moves away, the pleasure gone in all at once, leaving a tingling, desperate need in it's place. I whine desperately, despite my resolve, and he smirks at me. Oh, that bastard was going to tease me… "Oh, what was that? Were you enjoying it that much?" he says teasingly (I knew it!), fingers dancing just above my member. I'm tempted to kick him, feeling myself pulse. His arms take my hands, pulling them down and forcing me to abandon any hope to release myself on my own. "D-dammit Matty, you bastard…" I whisper shakily, cursing myself for stammering. Matt's grin widens.

"Say please," he purrs, tracing his tongue along my stomach. I shudder, conflicted between my pride and my desperate sexual need. I hated begging. I was not one to beg. I clench my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut and letting out a shuddering breath.

"Maatt…tty…." I groan, digging my fingernails into his arms. I spy his eyes flicker with a bit of regret, but I can tell he's enjoying my withering beneath him. It's not every day I let him get away with things like that. I let out a stubborn groan, trying to no avail to jerk out of his grasp. The need has become unbearable at this point, and I give in, hissing, "P-p-please!"

Ah, damn it, but it was worth it. Matt smiles victoriously and inches down, returning my member into his mouth. I waste no time bucking into him, making a point to make him forced to deep-throat me, and I see him shudder, glowering at me half-heartedly. The irritation is washed away by pleasure though, and after a few moments I release into his mouth, screaming his name along with crude language. "DAMMIT, MAIL!"

Matt smirks, swallowing as usual and wiping his mouth. "Call me crazy, but I'm fairly sure you taste somewhat like chocolate," he says teasingly. I glower at him, panting, though somehow I don't doubt it.

Despite my coming I was far from done w ith this bastard, I decided, and grab him by the shirt collar, tugging on the striped fabric. "This comes off," I hiss demandingly, and he blinks. "All of it."

Matt seems happy enough to comply, throwing off his shirt and his pants with a little help from me. My hard on returns easily as usual, but his is there and quite obvious, too - he's not wearing underwear either - and I tighten up at the sight of his admittedly impressive size. (God, don't tell him I said that, Jesus help me. Probably not the best time to mention Jesus though… sorry, dude.) I blush despite myself as the pants hit the ground, but I give him my sexiest smile. "Good boy, there, Jeevas."

My redhead gives me his own sexiest smile - which would make most people swoon, actually, except I've had his cock up my ass so I'm kind of beyond swooning over him. Instead I grab him by the shoulders and smash my lips to his. Matt dominates the kiss, and I let him push me to the couch again. His hands waste no time sliding down my chest and down my waist, which makes me moan into the kiss. He eats all of my so unds up, relishing in them, his hands sliding under my legs. I don't hesitate, just as eager to comply, wrapping my legs around his waist.

"Feeling impatient?" Matt said teasingly, biting and nibbling at the sensitive area around the nape of my neck. I let out an involuntary moan that was probably heard a few doors down by those cranky old neighbors and dig my nails into his shoulder blades, raking them down his back. That would hurt most people, but Matt shivers with pleasure - he's kind of a machoist sometimes, which is good because I'm rather violent.

"Extremely," I purr, beyond taking my time with Matt by now, smashing my lips back on his soft ones. Matt snickers, sounding happy none the less as his hands inch down my body, rubbing against one of my taut nipples and making me let out another moan. I wonder briefly how he isn't disgusted with me, his hands tracing along the scar-tissue on my shoulder, kissing my neck where the skin was once melted… but he doesn't hesitate to kiss along those areas, not minding the scar at all. At least it proves he doesn't only want me for my body.

"Good," Matt whispers, brushing his hands along my erection, which has returned with vengeance. "Because I am too."

I only half-expect it when one of his fingers slides into me, making me gasp. I was half-used to the feeling by now (we went through a LOT of sheets in a week, let me tell you that…) but it didn't make it any more strange and exciting. Matt only grins, beyond the 'are you okay' stage by now, sliding in another finger. His hands trace along my member as he does this, pushing on my legs and scissoring me apart. I shiver, breaking a sweat and taking in ragged breaths, trying to block out the pain - I knew it got better.

And it did. Matt slipped in a third fingers and thrusted it in, finding my sweet spot within the first two thrusts, making me scream, the pain overpowered by the pleasure immediately. "God, mail, there!" I cried out, no longer caring for my pride. "There!"

Matt smirked at me, stretching me wider still and licking along my neck. I shivered, squeezing my eyes shut and letting out another array of moans. I knew the preparation was necessary - that boy was kind of large, like I said - but dammit, I wanted him **now. **Letting out a overly-loud moan I thrust myself down on his fingers, letting myself soak up the pleasure without restraint.

I can't help but let out a whimper as Matt suddenly pulls out of me and moves away, pulling from my grasp on his shoulders. I hiss at this betrayal, but I see that he's only moved to grab the bottle of lube that was sitting under the couch (it's always there). "Dammit, Matty, hurry up," I hiss, heart pounding, withering and trying to resist the urge to touch myself, which would only earn me more torment from Matt and make me wait longer. The redhead smiles at me, his usual happy-go-lucky-Matt smile.

"I'm hurrying," he says almost teasingly, and I let out a groan of displeasure, fighting the urge to whimper as Matt slathers lube on himself before moving to my entrance again, slipping his fingers back in, but only one and only for the propose of lubricant, not giving me the pleasure of feeling full again. I let out a moan, clawing at his back and forcing him back on top of me. Matt smirks again, returning to his position of straddling me and the usual cocky sex-personality, pushing my legs back as they wrap around his back a little roughly, making me shudder. "You really are so sexy, Mells."

"Shut… up…" I hiss, tangling my fingers in his hair almost angrily and pulling, earning a shudder. "Less talk, more buttsex, Jeevas."

And as always Mail Jeevas complies, slipping his fingers out of my hole and adjusting himself, his member brushing my entrance. I squirmed, stretching my legs apart farther. After a moment, I nod, and he pushes into me. I scream at first, unable to control myself in the blinding pain, my fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. I know for a fact that this is Matt's least favorite part, sitting there panting, waiting for me to give him the okay to start moving. After a few obese seconds I nod my compliance, getting slightly used to the feeling. Matt pushes all the way in, allowing me to feel his full length - no measurements for you, that's for me to know and for you to never find out - before he pulls out and thrusts into me.

I scream, ecstasy overtaking me as he hits my prostate on the first try - he's damn good at that. He wastes no time speeding up, knowing I want him to move as much as he can without having to ask. I kiss him again as he takes a hand to return to my own neglected member, hungrily searching his mouth. The pleasure is nearly overtaking me now, my heart threatening to burst from my chest, my breathing getting more ragged. _God, what this boy does to me_, I think vaguely, _Matt, you dickwad, it's hardly fair… _

But it's completely fair, really, and I let out a shuddering scream that I know can probably be heard from the mall across the street from our shabby apartment, hitting my climax and moaning his name, just as always. "M-MAIL!"

It doesn't take more than a few seconds for Matt to release too, filling me with his cum and making me shudder as he collapses onto me, panting against my neck. We lay there like this for a while, him hugging against me and me just laying there, still seeing stars from the sudden encounter of the sexual kind.

"I love you, Mihael," Matt whispers warmly after a while, as he always does, wrapping his arms around me and sitting up, pulling me into him again. I don't protest, snuggling into his lap and resting my head on his chest. He feels warm, and it's nice, just feeling him like that, still tingling with overwhelming pleasure and a bit of shamefulness for being such an uke during sex. But I can hardly help it - it's Matt after all.

"Love you too, Mail," I whisper. It occurs to me in the back of my mind that, really, if anyone wanted to know our real names that badly (a.k.a. Kira) they could just listen to us have a good round of buttsex and they'd be able to put two and two together. I dismiss this thought, though - it was ridiculous after all - and I snuggle closer to him, taking in his cigarette-smoke mixed with cheap laundry detergent, musty-old-apartment, and admittedly, sex. I smile a little as he rests his lips to my forehead, feeling him smirk into the gesture.

After a long time of sitting like this, blissful and happy, Matt speaks again, pulling away from me and brushing the hair from my sweat-soaked cheeks with a warm smile. "Hey, I never got an answer to that question."

I blink in surprise, turning a little so that I'm sitting a little further from his face, not at all fazed by the fact that we're still naked (modesty level: zero). "What question?""You know. The one before the sex. The one about Heaven." Matt replies quietly, looking a little out-of-character-serious, though he's still got that classic Matt-smile on his face.

I make a face at him, a little tempted to tell him he was an idiot. Instead I stretch backwards so that I'm laying on his legs with my back on the armrest of the couch. I ponder his question for a long time, looking up at the auburn red ceiling above my head as I come to a conclusion. I smile as it comes to me, raising my hands up to the sky, stretching my fingers apart dramatically before replying.

"Definitely chocolate-flavor."

_A/N: It wasn't me who wrote this, I swear. *hides*OH, and just to say something in my own defense: it actually started out with just the beguining part and then I wanted it to lead up to the chocolate flavor thing, but I couldn't think of anything else to put inbetween the beguining and the end so I threw in some smex, okay? XD don't hate me._


	8. Innocence

I walked down the street in a mope, dragging my feet against the sidewalk as I go. Today was terrible. Every day, it seemed, was pretty much terrible, now that it had happened. How had it gotten so bad? I looked up at the gray sky in distain, glaring at the clouds, as if they were the source of my pain. It was going to rain today. He always hated rain, I thought with a scoff, he was always afraid of storms. He always crawled into my bed and pretended he wasn't scared, but he always was… his feet were always cold, too, since he refused to wear socks… but I didn't complain. I never did.

_How had I been so naive? _

The first few rain drops made their appearance gradually, making tiny little dark spots on the cement in front of me. I scoffed. It was like the sky was crying. But what reason did it have to cry - was it left behind too?

_How had I been so blind?_

I sighed and kept walking, scuffing my feet as I walked. I was sixteen, plenty old to go out on my own, I told myself, though I didn't believe it really. I didn't know where I was going, and honestly, I was a little bit scared. I knew I could get by fine financially - I had plenty of hacking jobs already - but the world out there was quite the frightening place.

_If he'd been beside me, I wouldn't be afraid._

A hurrying woman talking on her cell phone brushes by me in a hurry, her high heels clacking as she made her stride down the walk. A young high-school age couple, barely younger than me, were holding hands and looking sheepishly at each other at the bus stop. Some old man was eating ice-cream with someone I assumed to be his granddaughter. There was a giggling bunch of girls making their way slowly in the opposite direction from me. There was a few gang-banger looking boys in the shadows of the alley across the street. But it was completely void if leather-decked blondes.

It wasn't like I was expecting any different. I tried to tell myself I didn't even want to find him, but that was a lie - he may be a friend-abandoning bitch but I still loved him more than anything.

_Why had I let him slip away so easily? _

_Did I not hold on tight enough?_

The crosswalk light flashes "Walk" and I comply, hurrying along with the bustling crowd. I was lonely already, and had no idea really where I was going, but I was glad to be out of there and away from Wammys. I would go and get my car, and then bail out of here. Head somewhere cool. Find a nice apartment somewhere and spend the rest of my days playing video games. Yeah. That's what I'd do. I could forget all about him.

_I'm so foolish._

I didn't bother to stop at the next crosswalk even though there were cars coming, just jogging a bit faster. I got a threatening honk from an ugly SUV, some lady with crazy curly red hair glowering at me from the drivers seat, but I ignored it. Let them run me over - it would save me some trouble.

But that was, of course, too much to hope for. With a sad little chuckle I keep going, adjusting the goggles over my eyes and shifting the bag over my shoulder. I would find a hotel for now. Something shabby - I only had about 350$ which I pick pocketed from Roger's wallet. It didn't matter what, and I just take the first shabby piece-of-shit motel I come across, hurrying to the reception desk inside. I'm happy to be getting out of the cold air, out of the slight drizzle of rain that I had barely felt on my pale skin.

The hotel is shabby inside - you could tell they tried to make it look nice, but it was kind of tacky looking with a blue theme to it. I sigh, not really caring either way as long as it had a bed.

_He would have complained._

Attempting to shove the thoughts out of my head would only be in vain, so I let them come, ignoring them. All of them were always that-guy-related. That guy's name that I couldn't even think of without the risk of breaking down in front of the ugly receptionist lady. She looks about thirty-six but stuck in her high school days, with frizzy brown hair and bright lipstick and too much eyeliner, chewing gum rather noisily.

_That's one of his pet peeves. He'd be so pissed off right now…_

"I need a room for one," I say quietly. She looks up at me, raising her eyebrows in surprise. It was obvious she knew I was too young to be renting a hotel room, but I glower at her the way he always used to and she doesn't say anything, making the exchange and giving me a key. The room was cheaper than I expected, and I'm glad, having some cash left over. Though I could always go and get more money when I needed it from some hacking jobs, I had a banking account which was probably piling up by now because of that, but I didn't feel like going anywhere. I just wanted to sleep.

I reach the hotel room slowly, dragging my feet on the carpet as I go. Just to think that yesterday it was his birthday, and I was so drunk on liquor I found in the kitchen that I blacked out. Hah. I guess it's true - being drunk is even worse when you're depressed. But now I was free, free from that horrible orphanage full of…. Full of him. Full of memories of him, who used to sleep below me on the bottom bunk. And the stares. The stares and the sympathetic looks and the sad glances that people would throw at me… they knew how much pain I was in, and I detested it. I would rather be hated as I was when Mello was still here then to be pitied when he wasn't.

_That's such a __**him **__thing to say…_

I slide my card through the slot just as a couple comes out of the elevator beside me. I glance up slowly, and regret it immediately. There's a blonde woman pressed against a dark haired man, and their kissing like it's the end of the world, their hands all over each other. I don't mean to, but I stare, immediately reminded of all the painful memories. The innocent memories of little kisses I had with **him**, of the giggles and the tall tales and the adventures we had, of the climbing trees and the hugging. The innocence I'd held on to for so long. Even when we took it as far as having sex at the age of fifteen it had, in a way, been innocent - I believed in him with every inch of my being, and truly believed we'd be together forever. It was bliss. And as I watched this couple now, both of them taking my presence for granted or jus t not noticing at all, I wondered if they felt the same thing we did. They had their hands all over each other, whispering and fumbling for the door as they kissed. The woman was beautiful, her hair wavy and down to her shoulders, but no where near as beautiful as **he **was. The man was holding her so protectively, I couldn't help but wonder how old they were - they only looked about eighteen at best, not that I had a right to tell them their relationship was wrong considering I cut off my path of abstinence at a younger age than this.

I realized after a few minutes that I'd been staring and quickly whirl around, dashing in the door ad slamming it shut violently. I almost have the instinct to call out to Mello and tell him what I'd just heard, like I would at Wammys. Would have told him w ith grins and disbelief, and he would have given me wide eyes as he looked up from whatever chocolate he was eating or whatever book he was reading and gasp, immediately demanding details. And we would have giggled and teased and whispered all night about it, and would probably end up watching the sunset together like we always did, and then if it stormed like it was going to tonight, he would curl up in my bed and we would sleep together too, blissful and innocent as we always were deep down, no matter how hard things got we would hold on…

But he wasn't here. He had left a year ago.

_He left you._

I grab my bag and hull it onto the shabby desk and peer around the room. It was what **he **would call a tacky-shit place, with blue everything save for the desk and TV and other such things, which were white and black. Even the carpet was dark blue. I scoffed and flopped on the bed, which was stiff against my back. I knew I wouldn't sleep tonight, not that I had planned to - I could hardly sleep at all without him anymore. I was too used to hearing him scuffle about in the bunk below, or giving in despite his pride and climbing onto the top bunk with me even though he slept walked a lot and without me to hold on to him at night he'd probably walk right out and fall to his death. But I would never let that happen. Nothing would ever hurt him when I was on watch, I'd always assure him.

_He's not on your watch anymore._

The voice in my head was almost taunting me now, and I again tried in vain to block it out, grabbing my game from my pocket and throwing the switch to on in desperateness. I would need batteries soon, the little light was glowing red, but I didn't care. I had caught every pokemon already anyway. (They say that's impossible, but it's not if you play it for four weeks straight without stopping. Yeah, take that, bitch.)

I let out a disgruntled sigh, leading my little pixel person across the screen. I had picked the girl accidentally when I first caught it, but **he** had informed me that the guy was an ugly bastard anyway, so I stuck with the girl. And of course **he **knew. He knew everything, in my mind, and to an extent, I would listen to anything he said. He could probably convince me the world was flat, if he really tried. Hell. He had convinced me that he'd never leave me, and I'd believed that, hadn't I?

With a scoff I toss my videogame to the ugly bedspread to my left, closing my eyes. I just couldn't focus. "_It's because you have ADD, Matty." _His voice whispers in my head, and I see the mischievous grin on the perfect face in my mind, the blonde hair bouncing around his face as he snatches the game from me. "_Or are you just distracted by my fabulousness?"_

The memory is too clear in my mind, and I know exactly how I reply, opening my eyes and smiling weakly, feeling the familiar burning in my eyes and know that I want to cry. "Both.." I whisper with a tiny choke of a laugh. I struggle to hold back my emotions, trying to stay in the void that I'd managed to stay in at Wammys, trying to keep on the mask of the boy who doesn't care…

I lay my head back in frustration. Why couldn't I forget about him? I'd even tried having sex with someone else, tried to forget him by indulging in another person - a girl, no less - but she hadn't been **him**. I couldn't love her the way I loved that boy. She relied to much on me, expected me to be the one in charge, to make all the first moves. She wasn't a leader. I did enjoy her company, sure, but let's face it - I'm a flaming homosexual. There's no way around it. And really, when I kissed her, she seemed to enjoy it but to me it was like kissing my sister. Or rather, kissing anyone who has a vagina…. Or isn't **him.**

I close my eyes. It was useless, trying to forget about him. He was mine. He was the one who had showed me to cling to my innocence and then had ripped it from under my feet in one fatal swoop. But he had been mine, as unpredictable and manic as he may have been. I wanted to see him again. I needed to find him… Even to just brush a his hair from his eyes just one more time would be enough for me, just one little touch, and then I could die a happy man.

But he was gone, and there was no finding him again. I close my eyes, hearing the rain start to pour down more violently outside. I pictured him storming around the room, complaining about how "the damn weatherman didn't predict any stupid storm" and eating chocolate in an irritated way. And as the thunder rumbled outside he would flinch, his stony exterior shuddering a little bit under the phobia he had of the storms outside, and he would look at me guiltily, as if I hadn't already known about his fear. And I would roll my eyes and open my arms and say "Come here, silly." And he would glare at me and tell me he wasn't afraid until the lightning struck and the power flickered out as it was doing now, the only light in the room the flash that came from the lightning, and he would squeak like a frightened school girl and leap into my arms, cursing under his breath as I laughed at him. But he wouldn't move away, too afraid of the harmless storms outside the window, that innocence still alive inside him, only dimmed by the fiery ambition that was raging in his heart.

But the image was not a reality. My reality was this. This dark shabby hotel room that no longer had power, flopped on an uncomfortable hotel room bed with an obvious lack of blonde in my arms, the thunder and rain roaring outside my window. As I closed my eyes I shivered, wondering if he knew he had broken my innocent love when he walked out those Wammy doors.

_I should have gotten rid of my innocence while I had the chance. Maybe then I wouldn't miss him so much._

And then with this depressing thought I cried, no longer caring who might see. But nobody would see me anyway. I was all alone.

**A/N: WELL THAT WAS DEPRESSING.**

**Why are my stupid oneshots always so mopey? I mean really. This was to the prompt "innocence" and I got MOPING, DEPRESSED MATTY. OHHHH, THE JOYS. XDDD I should probably move to another couple with this, but I love MxM so much, and I already did BBxA (which I gained to randomly enjoy overnight a few days ago) and LxL (which I've always luvved). So idk who else I'd fricken do. XD whatever. More LxL maybe. Or no more pairings and some freakin non-love shots for once…. The next one is Drive though… guess that means u get… MORE MATTY! :D AHAHAHA…. Dammit. XD**


	9. Drive

_**A/N: This is really random but I'd just like to say thank you for all of my lovely reviewers on this story! All three of you!!! XDD Also, an extra thank you to the marvelous BetaManga for inspiring me in this incredibly random fan fiction! HOORAY! I LOVE YOU ALL TO DEATH *glomps you* oh, and if there's more than three people reading and not reviewing… well, I love you too XD even if I don't know if you exist or not! ^^' Anyway, this is completely random and AU pretty much, so… yeah XD**_

"I'm BORED… are we there yet?"

Matt twitched in irritation, keeping his eyes on the road. Not that he needed to, since they were at a red light anyway, but none the less he made a point of ignoring Mello's complains. The blonde had leant his seat almost all of the way back and had his feet kicked up on the dashboard, grumbling about how long it was taking to get to their destination. "We've barely been in the car for fifteen minutes!" Matt cried, exasperated.

"Yeah, but we're stick in this stupid traffic," Mello whined in response, "We're not GOING anywhere! We're gonna be late picking up L!" The red head sighed and concentrated on driving. _If Mello hates being in the car so much, why did he make me take him on this damned road trip? _Matt complained inwardly.

"WHITE ONE!" Mello suddenly screeched, punching a surprised Matt in the arm. The redhead yelped and flinched away, almost swerving into an ugly yellow SUV in the process.

"What the hell, Mell!?" Matt exclaimed, shooting the blonde a glare.

Mello gave him a bright grin, laughing, "Hey, that rhymed!"

"Mells!"

Mello sighed and batted his eyelashes in mock-innocence, pointing to a white car in the other lane. "White one," he said, as if to explain everything with those words. "The car was white."

After a moment of bewilderedly staring at him Matt sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. Mello gave him a Cheshire cat grin and looked out the window, resting his chin on his hands. "I'm bored again," he complained moodily, earning a frustrated sigh from the driver.

"Well, sor-ree, I'm _trying _to drive," Matt snapped. Mello glared at him, his lips curving into a pout as he crossed his arms over his chest disdainfully. Matt rolled his eyes at his pouting friend. "Just turn on the radio or something."

When Mello didn't reply Matt focused his full attention on the road, searching for their exit. He was just pulling his car into the other lane when the radio suddenly screamed to life, a familiar Cobra Starship song assaulting Matt's ears at ridiculous volumes so that he would have normally covered his ears if he wasn't clutching the steering wheel.

"MELLO!" Matt cried, looking angrily at him from the corner of his eye. The blonde didn't see any reason to reply, though, throwing his arms into the air and singing into his chocolate bar dramatically.

"_I came here to make you dance tonight~_" Mello sang along through a grin of pure joy at the face he was surely bursting Matt's eardrums. He wasn't the best singer, admittedly, but he wasn't horrible, either. "_I don't care about my guilty pleasure for you~!"_

Matt fought a grin, both amused and annoyed, almost missing the exit as he yelled over the blaring music, "TURN IT DOWN!"

"_And I don't even know~ what kind of fool you're takin' me for!" _Mello either didn't hear him or was ignoring him or both, flipping his hair and singing along as he did, a huge grin on his face.

"MELLS! Turn that down!!!" Matt practically screamed, and Mello blinked as if he'd only just heard him, then cupped his hand over his hand as if to say 'can't hear you.'

"Huh~?" Mello asked with a smirk. Matt glowered, knowing that he could hear him perfectly well, but leaned closer to his ear and shouted anyway:

"I SAID TURN IT D--"

"WHITE ONE!!!" Mello screeched suddenly, interrupting Matt and happily punching him in the jaw. Matt cried out and leapt away, almost loosing his grip on the wheel - it didn't REALLY hurt anything (unless you include his pride) but it was rather insane since he was trying to drive, after all. Luckily, Matt was an excellent driver.

"For God's sake…" Matt grumbled, but Mello only continued singing along to the still-too-loud music. Irritated, the redhead slammed one hand down on the music-power button.

"_You're never gonna get it with nothing… Cause nothing's what you got in your head… _Hey!" Mello' singing was cut off along with the music, and he shot a glare at Matt. "I was listening to that!"

"You're gonna get us killed someday…" Matt grumbled, shaking his head helplessly and went back to driving. Matt laughed giddily.

"It's funny 'cuz it's true," Mello mused wistfully, laying back in his seat again and taking a bit off of his chocolate bar with a snap. Matt could only sigh.

_****_

"L!!!!" Mello h ad burst out of the car, dashing down the driveway and throwing himself rather childishly into L's arms, a huge grin on his usually glaring face. Being not much sturdier nor bigger than the blonde L stumbled, but managed to return the excited blonde's hug.

Matt rolled his eyes and killed the engine, hopping out of his car. Mello was always so happy to see L, quite out of character really, but Mello loved him, idolized him even. Not that Matt was jealous or anything - completely different kind of love. He'd assured himself of that a long time ago.

Mello pulled away from L to smile perkily, only for it to melt into a grimace when he saw Light Yagami standing mopily behind L, the brunette fixing his tie absently.

"Why is _he _here?" Mello asked in an irritated tone, just as he noticed the handcuffs, which made his eyes boggle out of their sockets with surprise.

"Handcuffs, huh?" Matt mused, coming to stand beside Mello and wrapping his arm around the blonde's waist out of habit. "Kinky."

Light's head jerked up, face glowering. "Not KINKY, surveillance, you asshole. Are you ASKING to get stabbed?" Light growled threateningly. The other boy only smirked - he'd have to do better than that to scare Matt. He lived with _MELLO _- nothing scared him anymore.

"Yes, Light-kun must stay with me at all times, thus the handcuffs," L explained bluntly, earning an eyebrow raise from Mello as the blonde shifted in Matt's grip. "For classified means," L elaborated with a shrug.

"Oh." Mello said, a grumpy pout on his face, then with sarcasm, "_Great_."

"I still say it's kinky," Matt replied, earning another death glare from Light and a smirk from L, both of which Matt chose to ignore.

"Bad enough we have to bring NEAR," Mello grumbled, saying the white-haired boy's name as anyone else would say "horse shit." Taking another bite out of his Hershey's bar, he scanned the area suspiciously, "Where is sheep-boy anyway?"

As if on cue Near made his appearance from inside the building, twirling his white hair as usual as he made his awkward little shuffle towards them, dragging his feet on the ground.

"WHITE ONE!" Mello cried, pointing at Near and promptly punching Matt in the side. Matt barked out a laugh despite himself, rolling his eyes at his friend. The other three looked at them with puzzlement, but Mello ignored the looks, looking quite pleased with himself as he peered at the albino now standing beside L. "Whassup, snowball?"

Near gave him a blank look that would only be recognized as irritated by those that knew him well. "I would prefer you to call me Near, as you know, Mello."

"Better than sheep-boy," Light noted casually. Matt smirked but L only frowned disapprovingly at both nicknames. The albino boy blinked and slowly looked up at light, as if just acknowledging that he was standing there.

"Why must… _he _come with us?" Near asked monotonously, eyes narrowing just slightly in the brunettes direction.

Mello snorted and grabbed the slack of the metal cuffs between the two of them, rolling his eyes. "That's what I said, too," he said with irritation, nodding his agreement for once. Light and L both glared simultaneously at him, earning a fake smile from the blonde. "Just saying…"

"Are we going to leave or are we going to stand here all day?" Light asked, looking sort of irritated. Matt had to agree with him - he was getting anxious standing here - though he wasn't particularly looking forward to driving around with Mello and Near in the same car, much less Light and L. That would certainly be at best a bit of a hassle, at worst causing the apocalypse.

But of course, being the loyal puppy that he is, he let everyone pile into his beloved car. Mello hopped into the passenger seat as always, strapping the seatbelt over his waist, and the two older boys piled into the back. Near peered into the car.

"Where should I sit?" the small albino boy asked uncertainly, obviously not too eager to be sitting between the handcuffed pair currently in the back on either side. Matt sat in the drivers seat, about to reply just as Mello snickered.

"We could always shove him in the trunk," Mello suggested with a smirk in the white haired boys direction. Matt rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"Do not be ridiculous, Mello," L scolded, shaking a finger at him before unbuckling his seatbelt. "I shall sit in the middle." Mello shrugged as if to say 'worth a shot' as the raven haired boy slid to the center seat in his usual sitting position - it was a wonder he could sit that way in a car at all, especially with the requirement of seatbelts. Near nodded his thank you before plopping into the seat behind Mello's.

"Whatever…" Mello mused, stretching and spreading his arms out in a stretch before resting them on Matt's seat and the window ledge. "Let's drive, Jeevas."

Matt nodded and gunned the car, smirking. At this Light made a face. "Jeevas?" he asked quizzically, honest confusion on his face. Matt exchanged a look with Mello, who looked a little horrified to have given out his best friend's last name, and he quickly corrected himself:

"I said Jesus, you baka. Jesus. I was using God's son's name in vain, got an issue, jackass?" Mello barked rather convincingly. Near rolled his eyes at Mello's attitude but Light seemed to buy the excuse, leaning back against his seat with a yawn.

They hit the road finally, chattering away. "So, what have you been up to lately, Mello-kun?" L asked pleasantly, tapping his fingers on his knees.

"Not alota, just the usual," Mello replied wistfully, "Work, chocolate, more work, being bored, even more work, sex with Matt, more work--""MELLS!" Matt cried, his face red with embarrassment, but the blonde ignored him.

"--you know how it is," Mello finished, grinning at both L and Matt victoriously. Light looked a little pale and confused, but the raven-haired detective only nodded knowingly - yes, he did indeed understand.

Matt sighed and rolled his eyes. "Mells, have I told you before you're completely inappropriate? Because you are," he informed him kindly, but despite his annoyed tone he was fighting a smile.

"You love me anyway," Mello snickered, as if this were obvious.

"Your friends are weird," Light muttered to L, who only shrugged - it was true, so he wasn't going to deny it. Near was now fiddling with a couple of chocolate wrappers he had retrieved off of the floorboard, looking concentrated. Mello yawned exaggeratedly. "I'm bored now!" he announced.

"Turn on the radio," Light suggested earnestly, leaning over L's lap to press the power button, only to have his hand swatted away by the gloved hand of Matt.

"No." Matt said sternly, turning onto the highway. "Mello lost that privilege. Besides, we're hitting traffic and we can't have music on too loud, we'll cause road rage or something."

Light nodded and sat back in his seat, understanding, but Mello pouted. "Aww, Matty, you're so mean!" Mello cried with an exaggerated look of hurt on his face. "I'll be good!"

"No, he won't," Near noted but was ignored completely by all parties.

"No way," Matt replied distractedly, peering in frustration at an old woman trying to move her hideous green car in front of them to squeeze into their lane, despite the fact that there was clearly no room. "Dammit, lady.." he muttered under his breath.

"That woman will not fit into that space," L, who was apparently watching the road as well, commented. Light nodded in agreement, peering over the hunched man's shoulder for a better look.

"Her hair is also receding at the top," Near pointed out needlessly. Matt growled in irritation, trying to signal for her to get into her lane to no avail. Suddenly Mello leaned over Matt's lap and laid on the horn, glaring at the lady. "GET OUT OF THE ROAD!" he hollered. Matt yelped, horrified, and Light laughed despite himself as the old woman whipped around with a glare on her face from behind her glasses.

"MELLO! You're gonna start road rage!" Matt cried, grabbing Mello around the waist and pulling him from the steering wheel, depositing the struggling blonde on to the seat. Matt smiled sheepishly at a glaring man in the next lane, who proceeded to flip him off. Mello was moving to return the gesture, but L grabbed his hand in a haste.

The crazy lady moved back into her own lane, though, and the traffic started inching along after a little while, though the growing was still slow until they made it to the exit and onto a mostly empty, face paced road.

"Oh, finally," Light said with relief - he hated traffic almost as much as crime. L rolled his eyes, but he was smiling anyway.

Matt was speeding now, the voice in the back of his head hoping there would be no cops on this road, and Mello took this as an opportunity to roll down his window, blonde hair whipping in the wind and out the window. The blonde smiled a little, enjoying the feeling of the wind in his face. Near, on the other hand, was becoming quickly uncomfortable.

To his left Light was leaning on L's shoulder, whispering something to him with a suggestive smile on his face. Every few seconds L would muffle a giggle or something strangely similar to a purr or run his fingers through Light's hair. Near couldn't hear what they were saying, but whatever it was must have been pretty damn convincing because, out of no where, L grabbed Light by the chin and kissed him.

Near averted his eyes when Light started kissing back, eyes widening as he stared at the floorboard. He hadn't realized they were in that kind of relationship before this, so obviously he was a little startled.

Matt didn't notice this turn of events, however, because he was driving too fast.. And loving it. The trees whipped by outside the window and Mello squealed with excitement as he swerved too quickly around a blue mini van with an irritated fat guy sitting in the drivers seat, full of adrenaline.

Mello loved the speed almost as much as the redhead did, in fact he thrived on it, his hair whipping through the air. Matt peeked at him and had to admit the other boy looked outstandingly like a magazine add, leg crossed over the other so that his ankle was resting on his knee, hair whipping through the air with a half-smile on his perfect face - _yup, doesn't get any better than this, _he thought wistfully.

Suddenly the blonde reached over and flicked on the radio before Matt could protest. It was still too loud, but the redhead sighed and chose to ignore it as Mello burst into song, laughing when he realized what it was.

"_I'm bringin' sexy back!_" Mello sang into his chocolate bar, dancing around in the chair and earning a laugh from Matt and an eye roll from Near. There were a group of teenage boys ogling him from a Porsche driving beside him, and Matt wondered vaguely if they knew he was a guy before speeding up and racing his blonde out of view. Mello either didn't notice or didn't care. "_Those other boys don't know how to act!"_

"Heh heh… light-chan…" L murmured, though only the brunette to who he was whispering and an unfortunate Near noticed, daring a glance at the two. They were quite happily making out as if the world were to come to an end at any moment, hands all over each other and Light's tie being pulled from his neck, ignoring Mello's singing and Near's prescience completely.

Near cringed and he looked away.

Mello took a hungry bite out of the chocolate bar, happily swelling it with the smirk and abandoning his singing act. "So.. Matty…" Mello purred slyly, brushing matt's arm with a suggestive smile accompanied with an eyebrow waggle, still completely unaware of the backseat make out going on behind him due to the blaring Justin Timberlake song. "When are you gonna let me drive?"

Matt raised his eyebrows and took his eyes off the road just long enough to kiss Mello softly on the lips, breaking the kiss immediately and whispering, "Never."

The blonde squealed in half anger half surprise and swung back into his seat, giving him a cross look as he stuck his tongue out at the redhead. "You're no fun at all."

"If fun requires me getting my car banged up by a reckless blonde, then I'm happy not being any fun," Matt said teasingly, earning another pouty look from Mello. It was almost bewildering how unaware they were of Light and L at this point.

Near was not. In fact he was more than aware - L's shirt had landed on his lap with a happy plop just moments ago and now he was staring at it with a cringe. "Oh… god.." Near muttered with a shiver, disposing of the white fabricated shirt on the floor.

Suddenly Mello pulled the lever beside his seat and pushed it back, crushing Near's legs and kicking his own up on the dashboard, looking up at Near with a face of mock-joy. "Sup, snowball? I-- well, hello!" Mello cut off to a different attention in the middle of his statement when he spotted Light and L, who were both quite.. Preoccupied with each other.

"Holy-- WHAT THE HELL?!?" Matt cried, horrified as he looked at them through the review mirror. "L!?!?"

L detached himself from Light at the exclamation, face flushed. "Oh. My apologies, Matt, Yagami-kun and I got a little… carried away…"

"A _little_?" Mello teased, but really he seemed more amused or impressed than shocked, not moving from his position leaned back on the seat, which was still giving Near little-to-no personal space.

Light grimaced, looking embarrassed as he fixed his messed up hair and tie. "U-uh… yeah, sorry…"

Matt looked flustered, slowing the car as they approached a neighborhood and glaring over the seat at L and Light, who immediately shrunk back against the seat and put on innocent faces, as if Matt were the responsible, scolding adult and they were the troublemaking children and not the other way around.

"Fine. Make out or whatever, but _not in my car._" Matt said a little darkly, eyes narrowed into slits behind his goggles. Light's already pale face got a few shades paler at this, either from fear or humiliation.

Mello smiled at L apologetically as the black haired boy retrieved his shirt. "Don't take it personally, this car is his baby," Mello explained, and Matt nodded.

"Damn straight it is!" Matt agreed, no shame whatsoever in his voice, and Mello's lips curled up into an involuntary grin.

"And so because of this, nobody is allowed to have hot sex in the back seat… except for us." Mello finished, flashing a wicked grin and dodging Matt's embarrassed smack that was aimed at the back of his head, ducking around the blow. Near face palmed as Matt attempted to whack Mello with one hand and drive with the other, L's face growing a little flustered all over again as he peered suspiciously at the leather seats, as if expecting to find something disgusting there.

The attempted assault on Mello stopped as Matt turned the corner and into the more busy, populated part of the city they'd entered. Mello pulled his seat back up off of Near's legs, forgetting all about his previous plot to relieve his boredom by bothering the other boy. The albino boy sighed with relief at that, letting out an involuntary yawn.

"Sleepy?" L asked with a hint of concern, and Near nodded a little - cars always made him drowsy, which is one reason why he didn't like to be in them. "You should try to sleep, Near."

"I--" another yawn escaped in the middle of his statement, "--can't. Already tried." Near told him, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"You can always count _sheep_." Mello said, smirking and lagging his hand out the open window in a lazy fashion. Near scowled.

"Oh. My. God." Mello cut off suddenly, unbuckling his seatbelt as the car pulled to a stop. Matt cried out in surprise - they were only at a stoplight! And yet Mello was kicking the door opened dashing out of the car and through the street, dodging through a hoard of stopped cars. "BE RIGHT BACK!"

_Oh. Of course. A Godiva store._ Matt spotted the store disdainfully across the street, watching worriedly as the blonde slipped in between cars and over them to get there.

"Chocolate? _Really?_" Light asked, disbelief apparent in his voice, though he looked amused. "Your boyfriend is such a spaz M--"

"GODIVA!??" L cried, and before Light knew what was happening the raven-haired male was crawling over Near's lap in a haste and leaping out he door after Mello, much to the disbelief and shock of the other pedestrians.

"…." Near wanted to say something, but he was speechless, the two geniuses entering the door and purchasing excessive amounts of expensive chocolates. Matt sighed, muttering something about his credit card being missing, and let cars go around him in wait for the other two boys, even though technically that wasn't legal. He co uldn't help but laugh, though, as they returned, bounding through the moving cars and ignoring the honks and yells as they hurried back, overflowing bags of chocolate in tow. Mello was grinning like a maniac and L with that usual blunt look on his face as they piled back to the car.

"Two minutes. I admit I am impressed." Near muttered as L dived back into the car, draping over Light and Near and holding the chocolate out in front of him as if to save it from being crushed. Mello laughed and slammed the door shut behind him, looking amused by both the chocolates and the annoyed people glaring his way.

"Ohh, yes, Godiva here I come!" Mello gushed, pulling out a bar from the bag with a loving expression on his face. Matt and Light exchanged knowing eye rolls as the two sweets-loving boys devoured their rich chocolates in a rush.

"You're crazy," Light said rather affectionately, smirking as L bit into a raspberry-filled chocolate truffle.

"MMmh-Mmh, Lighmmh Kmmh!" L replied inaudibly through his bite of chocolate, earning him another eye roll.

"MMMHH!" Mello tried to speak excitedly, swallowing the chocolate in a haste and pointing out the window as they drove away. As soon as his mouth was clear he whirled and punched Matt in the stomach. "WHITE ONE!"

"HEY!" Matt cried, choking on a laugh of his own and punching Mello on the shoulder. "RED ONE!"

"You are both idiots." Near informed them, finishing off his chocolate-wrapper origami. Mello scoffed and whipped around, punching Near in the knee and causing him to drop the chocolate-wrapper-colored swan from his hands.

"BLUE ONE!"

Near jumped back disdainfully, squeaking, "Hey!" After a second, though, Near reached out almost tentatively and pulled Mello's hair, earning a snarl of surprise from the blonde as he said almost monotonously, "Black one."

L turned and looked at them sternly and all three of them paused mid-punch of each other, hesitating with uncertainty, still completely compelled to follow L's every whim from their Wammy's days. Slowly L's grin returned and he turned, bopping Light on the head. "Silver one!"

"Aw, that's no fair," Light protested, "Almost all cars are silver!"

"Actually, most cars are gray, silver is a different shade," Near piped up with a puzzled look on his face. Then he smiled that creepy yet cute smile. "Besides, you're just being a sore-sport." Light rolled his eyes but didn't deny it, though.

Matt laughed and shook his head, turning back to the road. Mello chuckled and, to everyone's surprise, ruffled Near's hair almost affectionately before turning and settling into his chair again. Near blinked, surprised he hadn't been injured, then wondered what had happened to make everything so calm again as L yawned himself and leaned on Light's shoulder sleepily. The albino boy decided not to question it in fear of breaking the bliss and leaned back in his own chair, sighing and picking up another wrapper as it fluttered down from Mello's chair and starting on an origami heart.

The redhead in the drivers seat smiled warmly, letting out a muffled chuckle. _Even geniuses act a fool sometimes, _Matt thought wistfully. _But I guess it's best that way. It proves we're human, too._

There was a long, blissful silence that really only lasted a few minutes before Mello peeked up at Matt with big blue eyes and whispered those words again.

"…are we there yet?"

_**A/N: Ah, yes, I enjoyed writing this 3 actually wrote it on looseleaf paper at school then retyped it here 8D *lalalala* teehee, well, this was completely random and had nothing to do with anything really, but I hope you enjoy anyway. Review if you get the chance, I'd love to know who's reading! **__**OH AND ONE LAST THING!!**_

_**Don't be expecting every day updates from me all the time - I try to update as much as I can, but I DO have a life XD believe it or not. So yeah. Love me!**_


	10. Breathe Again

"Almost done with that?"Gevanni flinched at the voice that came from the floor at his feet, glancing down at Near who looked up at him with the usual seemingly-blank stare, expecting a reply. Usually Stephen Gevanni would be irritated at someone for interrupting his work - he was typing up a report - but his heart melted around the white haired boy. He suspected the little albino knew it, too, and seemed to use it to his advantage, but then again it could just be his imagination. Actually, was almost definitely his imagination, considering how Near usually was, despite Gevanni's wishful thinking.

He really should, he thought, let go of such affection though. It was completely inappropriate - Near was younger than him by many years, looked about ten years old even though he was a lot older than that, he was his boss, and he was completely emotionless it seemed. Gevanni cursed himself a little - that wasn't true. Near just wasn't good at expressing himself, and felt no need to, either. Also, he didn't like to be touched. At all.

Possibility for a relationship: 0.00001

And that was wishful thinking for Stephen.

"Just about," Gevanni replied with a smile in the boys direction, which Near promptly ignored as he went back to fiddling with his robot action figure. The dark haired man sighed and went back to typing up the report about the Kira investigation. Everything seemed to be related to the Kira case these days, even though it was over now, it was so infuriating… he hated that Near had been in so much danger.

The slightly OCD part of him kept fixing all the errors so that his paper kept coming out extremely drab. He sighed and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples in irritation. It was a work report so really it could be as drab as he waned it to be, but it still bothered him. Like the way the pencils weren't sitting in the cup the way they were suppose to be - that bothered him too.

Gevanni was moving to fix the problem when Near spoke up again. "If you are feeling stressed you should go and get some fresh air," he suggested monotonously, looking up at him with only his eyes. The older man paused under the semi-curious gaze of the albino boy - he had to admit he was completely adorable. _You are such a perv, thinking things about your boss, _his thoughts scolded, but he promptly ignored them.

"I'm fine here," Gevanni told him with a slightly queasy smile. He didn't want to go anywhere, really - he was happy at his desk to the extent that he stayed overnight at work many days. He was basically the personal babysitter for Near anyway, so it would be bad for him to not stay the night, he told himself, he was only doing his job. Right. Not because he wanted to be around Near, not at all.

Because he didn't like younger men.

Srsly.

…he only liked Near.

Gevanni frowned. _Maybe I am a pervert…_

"No, really," Near persisted, shifting so that he was looking up at Stephen with blank seriousness, curling his hair around his finger thoughtfully. "You should go out. I know you're restless, Gevanni - I can see it."

Stephen smiled a little queasily at him. "N-no, I'm fine, really," he lied, tapping his fingers on the desk. Really Near was right - he was feeling awfully restless, but he was too nervous after the almost-shoot-out that happened a few day ago to leave Near in the room by himself. Even if Linder was just across the hall…

Near suddenly shifted and struggled to his feet - he'd always had trouble with his legs and walking, but before Gevanni could stop him he was already upright - as long as he shuffled he could walk just fine. As long as he shuffled… and, like, only took a few steps. But Near wouldn't ever admit that he needed support to walk normally - it made him uneasy, even though Gevanni already knew about that because he had gone on walks with him before. It wasn't like he held hands with people and clung to the sides of walls because he wanted to.

Before Stephen could object Near had a hold of his hand, tugging him lightly to get off his chair. "Come, I am feeling restless as well. I will come with you," Near told him with a nod, not letting Gevanni just mope around. The dark haired man was secretly thrilled - a private, non-work walk with Near? Yes please! _You sicko._ His thoughts whispered again, but he shoved it away - it wasn't as if he was planning on taking advantage of him. He just wanted to show the awkward, emotionless boy a good time was all.

"Alright, alright," he said hastily, getting to his feet and, as subtle as possible, gave Near support with his arm, pretending that he didn't notice the way Near had to cling to him and shuffle as he walked. "I'll come, where do you want to go?""I do not care," Near replied honestly - he really didn't, he was just getting annoyed by the way Gevanni kept getting restless and rearranging his pens. He didn't like it when Stephen got restless - it made him upset and restless, too. "Anything you would like, Gevanni."_Oh, man, this boy doesn't realize how much I wish I could take him up on that offer, _the more perverted side of Gevanni's mind muttered, but he shoved those thoughts away as well, concentrating on the task at hand: make Near smile. Yes, that would be his mission, he decided.

"We could get ice cream. Do you like ice cream?" Gevanni suggested, peering at the albino boy as they walked for the door. Now that he thought about it, he'd never actually seen Near eat, or even express an interest in food at all. In his moment of uncertainty Gevanni spotted Halle, who was giving him a questioning look from across the hall - she'd long guessed his affection for Near. He tried to motion that nothing was going on but she grinned at him anyway, giving him a thumbs up as if to say "you go get him, man!" _Oh, great, _he thought, _now I'm a pedophile with fans._

Near's face shifted slightly to a look of thoughtfulness, curling his hair with the hand that wasn't clinging to Gevanni's arm. As if he had to think it over, like it was a puzzle as to weather or not he liked ice cream or not.

"I do like ice cream," Near told him after a moment, spacing out for a second as they walked, still making awkward shuffles as they made their way to the car-lot. Stephens car was all the way across the lot, and he felt Near grow wary at the sight of how far away it was. Still Near didn't complain, tugging Gevanni along behind him without complaint. "Do you like ice cream, Gevanni?"For a split second Gevanni hesitated, mouth half open in his almost-reply. For some reason the question sounded inappropriate… _You sick fuck._ Oh, joy, the thoughts were back. Regaining his composure Gevanni continued helping Near towards the car as discreetly as possible. "Yeah, I suppose so. It's nice when it's so warm outside."

It was indeed warm outside. Scorching, almost. He was almost positive he was going to burn outside in this sun, though chances were Near would be even worse off - he was so pale, there was no way he was resistant to sunburn.

Near didn't reply, leaning against the passenger door of the car and struggling to pull it open, a look of frustration in his gray eyes as he attempted to support himself on the side of the car and pull open the door at the same time. Gevanni winced and leaned over to help him open it, but was surprised when Near gave him a look that was strangely angry, pulling the door completely open with a tiny stumble. Near's expressions were extremely discreet, but Gevanni was around him enough to recognize each one by now.

The albino boy shrugged away and climbed into the car, plopping down. He didn't fight help with closing the door, but Gevanni could tell he was being uncharacteristically stubborn. Before this Gevanni hadn't realized how acutely frustrated Near was with his slight disability.

After a moment of hesitation the older man got into the car as well, trying to act as if the previous moment hadn't bothered him and giving the albino boy a bright smile. Near ignored it, staring out the window as Gevanni said, "Coldstone or Dairy Queen?"

Near shook his head. "I don't care," he replied, and Gevanni gunned the engine of the car, ready to insist he decide before Near contradicted himself, "Coldstone."

The older man nodded, pulling out of the driveway. He couldn't shake the creeped out feeling that was still tingling in the back of his mind - Near had never looked angry before. It wasn't like the expression had been exaggerated (this was Near they were talking about here!) but that slight crease of his eyebrows and the flicker of self-hate in his eyes had taken the older man aback.

And thus, awkward silence donned the car as it drove out of the parking garage and down the street. The ice-cream place wasn't too far away, but Gevanni had been hoping to keep conversation going. However, the little albino seemed to have lost any will to speak, staring out the window, absently curling his hair and stretching his legs out as far as he could, leaning against the seat as if it were especially uncomfortable. The older man wished he could stare at him - he was looking especially cute at that moment - but he kept his eyes on the road, still unnerved by the silence and having the overwhelming urge to organize something or help with something important. (Nervous habit. OCD, I tell you, at least a little.)

The older man shifted in his seat, shooting another nervous glance at the boy, but he hadn't moved. He had an overwhelming urge to turn on the radio, but he was pretty sure he had some stupid oldies tape in and that would make him feel even older. If there was one thing he didn't want to do, it was to make their age difference more obvious than it already was. If anything he wanted to make it look like he wasn't a pedophile, even if anything he would ever do with the boy would be legal rape.

_You're a sick fuck for even considering that, _Gevanni's thoughts again provoked him, but he didn't shove him away this time. Hell, he kind of was, he had to admit at least vaguely. But it wasn't like he was being a creep. He just wanted to make the other boy happy, at least (not that him being a part of that happiness wouldn't be a major plus). Which reminded Gevanni of his mission - make Near smile. Jesus. How was he suppose to do that when he wasn't even talking?

Stephen turned his head slightly, peeking at Near as they pulled up to a red light. The small white haired boy was still staring into space, though he noticed he was rocking his legs back and forth with a hint of distain in his eyes. Gevanni winced. "We're almost there. Are you… okay?" He asked carefully.

Gevanni was worried the boy had suddenly gone mute or was extremely angry at him for some unbeknownst reason, but finally Near peeked up at him. He was surprised to find a tiniest hint of something new there. Sadness? No… it was guilt. "That is good. I am alright," he muttered quietly, shifting to sit up a bit more, even though Stephen could tell he didn't like being in the car. He couldn't understand the guilt that had flashed in the boy's gray eyes - had he imagined it?

All Gevanni could muster in response was an uncertain "Okay" before turning back to the road. _There's not much traffic today… _the older man thought for no particular reason, tapping his fingers on the wheel.

They finally arrived at Coldstone without another exchange of words. This time Gevanni was quick to dart out of the car and arrive at the passenger door before Near could make a move to do it himself, opening the door for him with a smile plastered on his face. He was inwardly praying that Near wouldn't insist to do it himself, and the prayers were answered. The albino simply nodded, a tiny bit of bewilderment in his eyes as he slipped out of the car, grabbing Gevanni's shirt sleeve for support without complaint.

They made their awkward way into the store, and Gevanni hoped that Near didn't notice the looks they were getting. Of course they were getting looks - a dark haired man with an SPK badge walking around toting someone who looked about fourteen, dressed like he was ten with his pajamas donned in public, and was actually at least eighteen that was clinging to his arm as if he would plummet to his doom otherwise. Actually, he probably would, but staring people didn't know that.

Truthfully, this was kind of an awesome moment for Gevanni, but he'd never admit it.

Near didn't say anything, but he was looking around a little bit suspiciously, as if he expected any of the pedestrians to suddenly whip out a gun or, worse yet, a Death Note. Gevanni had similar misgivings, though shamefully he had to admit he was less on his guard than the boy he was supposedly guarding.

"What would you like?" A peppy Coldstone lady asked, donned with a Coldstone uniform, a huge smile, and a nametag that said "Hello, my name is Kristy" in big green loopy letters. Near had to stand on his tip toes to see the ice-cream completely, which made it necessary for him to push on the glass for support, pressing his nose against the glass. The sight was rather adorable, and despite the fact that Near would probably get irritated and tell him he was eighteen, not _six_ if Gevanni ever told him, but the way he was pressing his nose and hands against the glass all on his tip toes like that was rather adorable. At least, Stephen thought so.

Gevanni watched Near carefully as he scanned the ice-cream, and for a moment he thought he saw a tiny glimmer of recognition and the slightest, tiniest tug of an almost-smile on his lips as he stared back up at the lady, who was looking rather impatiently back at him. "I'll have the Godiva chocolate."

The older man felt a wave of confusion wash over him at Near's expression. It was the same as always, to most people, but there was a tiny bit of wistfulness in his usually dull gray eyes. As if he were enjoying some happy inside joke that Stephen didn't understand.

Crappy feeling.

"Um, sir?" Gevanni looked up to find the woman staring at him with round, expectant brown eyes, tapping her foot with irritation. Stephen smiled guiltily - oops, I spaced out, he thought as he replied, "Err, same as him, I guess."

After a swift sequence of scooping and paying Gevanni and Near sat down at a booth with identical "like it" sized ice-cream cups and flimsy plastic spoons. Near was peering at the ice-cream as if it contained the meaning of life and Stephen was staring at him, still trying to figure out what was so special about the ice-cream.

A bit sullen out of the blue Gevanni grabbed his spoon and took a bite of the chocolate, flinching at the flavor. It was good, but it was also extremely rich. Honestly, he had never taken Near to be the kind of person to like such rich chocolate, or strong flavor in general. He was just so… docile. Near was still just staring at the ice-cream, though. Almost as if he was seeing right through it, instead staring at the table below or even the ground. In other words, he looked lost in thought.

"So… you like chocolate?" Gevanni asked hesitantly, trying to stir up conversation. Near paused with the spoon in his mouth, looking up at Gevanni again. He looked as if he had just remembered he was there, blinking slowly.

Putting the spoon back in the bowl Near frowned, just slightly before replying, "I do not know. I have never had it before."

_Whoa._ Okay, Gevanni had hardly been expecting that response. What person, what poor, deprived child had never tasted chocolate before? It seemed almost impossible, but Near wasn't the one to outright lie to someone, at least not about things as simple as tasting chocolate before. He felt a frown drag his lips downwards in response, the idea nearly repulsive. Never tasting chocolate…?

"Really!?" Gevanni blurted after a second of bewilderment, eyes widening. Near nodded, shrugging his shoulders slightly and poking at the ice-cream tentatively with his spoon. "Yes, Gevanni, I would not lie to you about something so unimportant," he replied, his voice so cold Gevanni would bet money that the temperature dropped a little. When the dark haired man shrunk back in his chair a little the white haired boy's tone softened slightly, fiddling with the spoon some more and staring at it while he continued, "I really have never had chocolate before."

"W-why?" the older man persisted, bewildered. It was kind of a stupid question, but Near had an answer immediately.

"Because there was barely enough to feed the chocolate addict." Near's voice was so quiet he only barely heard it, and for a second Stephen thought he had imagined it, but he continued very quietly, "Godiva was always his favorite."

"Whose favorite, Near?" Gevanni said carefully, feeling as if he were invading into a land-mine of bad feelings all of a sudden. He almost felt stupid for not knowing when Near sighed a little, even though he hadn't known the other boy anywhere near as well as the albino boy did.

"Mello. Mihael Kheel. He was a chocolate addict. You knew him, briefly.""The one who almost shot you?" Gevanni couldn't understand this at all.

"He would not have shot me."

"How do you know that?""I just do."

Gevanni stared at the albino boy with disbelief. He knew that the other boy was smart, but to be so sure about the protection of your own life when there was a maniac with a gun pointed at your head? Ridiculous. And what did this really have to do with ice-cream anyway?

Near shook his head slightly, pushing the spoon into the ice-cream slowly and almost uncertainly. A tiny sigh escaped the pale lips of the boy before he replied, "He hated me with all of his might. I always beat him. He was always… second. That's what he always said. Always second."

"How does that have anything to do with not killing you?"

"Because," Near said carefully, shaking his head, as if irritated that Gevanni didn't automatically understand him, "he would not let me die until he had beaten me, fair and square."

Gevanni frowned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Oh." It seemed so obvious when the other boy said it.

"We were… in the same classes. At Wammys," Near murmured.

Stephen furrowed his brow, surprised by this topic to come up. He'd never even heard more than a segment about Near's life, had never even crossed is mind to ask about it. And yet here was Near, spilling random details about a buy he didn't even know in the middle of their walk/ice-cream/talk/date/thingy. Whatever you wanted to call it. It made the older man uncomfortable, but the albino boy was opening up to him a little, and it made him feel a little better in that sense.

And so Gevanni pulled himself closer to the other boy across the table, taking another bite of the rich ice-cream as he did. Careful not to actually touch him in fear of scaring him away, like a timid cat or something. Near made no move to react to this, still staring at the ice-cream. "Were you… close?""No." The answer was automatic, almost rehearsed as it came from Near's mouth. "Mello was no friend of mine. We were always competing with each other, fighting for the role of L, and he hated me. Always did. So no… we were not friends," the boy sighed and looked up at the light hanging above the booth absently. He looked like he was remembering something, so Gevanni was careful to stay quiet as he continued murmuring, "That was Matt. Matt was his friend. He was the most loyal person you would ever meet… always there in Mello's background, hiding away in Mello's shadow. In fact.. If not for Mello, nobody would probably ever notice him at all. He never made a point to be a big part of things, he just wanted to be with Mello. He'd always go on chocolate runs for him, like a loyal dog. They were in love."

Gevanni startled a little bit at the last statement, almost choking on his spoon. _Okay then._ That answered the question of 'is Near against gay relationships.' Stephen wanted to say something, but the albino boy was talking again, the pace of his speaking speeding up slightly.

"I remember that we went to Coldstone, once. It was my first time going. Usually I was never invited to anything, since Mello didn't really like me…but it was my birthday, and Matt was a sympathetic person. Usually my birthdays went uncelebrated, but somehow he found out and convinced Mello to drag me along to Coldstone for a celebration. I think… I think that was the best time, really." There was a hint of a pull on Near's lips that surprised Gevanni as he continued, just barely a ghost of a smile. "It was one of those rare days that Mello was kind to me. I remember… even though he said he hated my guts, he declared that he would be nice to me for the day. We were ten, then. They each held one of my hands, because they knew about my slight walking problem, and we marched in… I remember that Mello got Godiva ice-cream with chocolate chips and chocolate sprinkles and several other chocolate items. Matt got strawberry. I… I don't actually remember what I got, but I remember I liked it.

"I remember that we sat outside, because it was a really nice spring day, and Mello was boasting about how he was goalie in soccer and kicked everyone's butt, except he used much more crude language than that. And Matt was laughing at his stories with a really big, goofy look on his face, and you could see his eyes light up when Mello touched his shoulder or brushed his hand with his even through his goggles, even though at the time they weren't in that kind of relationship yet. That wasn't until we were thirteen or so. But you could tell. That was another thing I was first at - recognizing Matt's feelings. I was sitting beside Matt, I remember, and Mello was across from us, chattering away.

"I didn't say much, I remember. I was just watching them talk and laugh. They honestly tried to include me in their conversation - or at least, Matt did, though Mello did tease me a lot. You could tell he was only teasing when he made fun of me, at least that day he was, and I remember… he called me rude names, like snowball or sheep-boy. It was better than the curses he usually used in place of my name, though.

"The part that made me remember, though, was that Mello was nice to me the whole time, and I was only eight then so I fell asleep at the table. When I woke up, I found myself asleep in my bed. I… well, Mello would never admit to this, and he would have shot you if you ever had the chance to ask him about it and deny every single part, but he carried me in, Mello and Matt did. Even though I wasn't their friend, and they had no reason to be nice to me and not just shake me awake, they carried me in that day. I don't think anyone ever did that for me. I know my parents didn't. Even at that age I was surprising my emotions like I'd been trained to, but… I guess it made me feel happy. I really…. never had the chance to say thank you for that."

The speaking came to a close and he squeezed his eyes shut, leaning back against the seat. Gevanni was speechless, staring at the albino boy with shock. That was quite the speech, especially for Near. Usually the only thing he ever talked about in length was something about a case, but to the utter shock of Gevanni, he was spilling precious childhood memories over an ice-cream flavor.

A strange fuzzy feeling had wormed it's way into Near's heart, warm and cozy. It made him feel special, that Near would open up to him like that. Even if it was a little strange.

Near opened his eyes half way, peeking up at Gevanni. He looked almost scared, the older man realized, his eyes having a certain uncertain, frightened luster about them. He wondered what could ever compel him to be scared of him, a little bit hurt, the warm feeling in his heart fading slightly. "I'm sorry," Near murmured, scooping some slightly-melting ice-cream onto his spoon and looking at it. He looked a bit guilty. "I've made you uncomfortable with my memories. I'm acting stupidly."Gevanni blinked, shaking his head feverishly and blurting, "No, that's okay." When Near gave him a slightly surprised look he continued, "Really. It just surprised me is all."

Near stared at him for a long time, gray eyes boring into Stephen's light-green ones. Gevanni tensed up under his gaze, frozen. The moment only lasted a few seconds, but it seemed like forever. Finally, Near broke the gaze, staring down at the ice-cream. "I see."

Gevanni shifted in his seat, feeling his face heat up a little. Wow, that was an unfamiliar feeling - Stephen felt so old all of a sudden. He hadn't blushed since… since when? High school? That really wasn't that long ago, but… it seemed like it, now, sitting here with Near who wouldn't even be out of collage yet. The thought made him a little unnerved.

"Uh… if you don't mind me asking, I mean," Gevanni continued with a cough, trying to clear out his throat of both scratchiness and the uneasiness that came with his words. Near looked at him expectantly, and so he continued, "Why are you telling me this?"

Near paused for a second, frowning, then replied, "Because you are Gevanni." As if that were the simplest, most obvious thing in the world. Actually, it WAS, but that didn't make it a good reason.

"Err…" Gevanni had no idea how to reply to this, staring at the albino boy with puzzlement. Near sighed.

"I am sad that they are dead, and you're the only one who will listen," Near explained, looking a little uncomfortable, as if a million people were staring at him for no reason. It was strange, an uncharacteristically uncertain look on Near's face. "I'm…. depressed. And I feel that you're the only one I can talk to it about. I think…" He frowned, then looked up at Stephen with slightly wide eyes, tilting his head just slightly to the side, "I can trust you, Gevanni."Gevanni knew he was blushing quite obviously now, caught completely off guard by Near's statement. _Near trusts me. _The thought made the warm, fuzzy feeling turn almost hot in his heart, almost uncomfortably warm. _Near trusts me? _Near was looking at him with that still uncertain look that he'd never seen before, his face tilted just slightly to the side, gray eyes searching Gevanni's. His eyebrows were knitted together, and his fingernails were scratching slightly at the table, possibly out of nerves. Out of no where Stephen felt nervous, like a boy on a first date with some schoolgirl, and had an outstanding nervous urge to start organizing things, like the napkins that were sitting lopsidedly at the table or perhaps unload and reload his gun a few times (which would be totally unacceptable in this environment) or-- wait, shit, he had to reply to Near.

"O-oh. I… okay. I'm glad," Stephen mumbled, averting his eyes. _Wow, smooth one, Gevanni._

Gevanni's heart hit the floor with shock as Near slid forward a little bit, reaching out and brushing his hand across his own. Gevanni's head snapped up to look at the smaller boy in surprise at the touch - as far as he knew, Near had never touched him or any of the other SPK members without it being necessary to get what he needed for a mission/case.

Near was looking at him with an expression that he could only read as thoughtful, lips parted only slightly, as if he were a puzzle with a missing piece that he couldn't solve. Stephen swallowed, gaze switching from Near's thoughtful expression to Near's small, pale hand resting on his.

Gevanni struggled to swallow before stammering, "U-uh… Near?" He felt stupid getting so uncertain over a touch, to the hand no less, but he hadn't expected it from Near of all people.

"Matt always told me I should listen to emotions more," Near murmured almost inaudibly, tracing his fingers delicately along Gevanni's knuckles as the man sat speechless across the table. A tiny ghost of a smile tugged on Near's lips again, choking the tiniest bit on the wave of memories that was unhappily crashing into him all over again. "I always told him… he was wrong. I always said emotions were unnecessary." Gevanni wasn't sure how to respond, fully focused on Near's hands as they traced against his own. It turned out it didn't matter, because Near wasn't finished talking. "…I regret it."

"Regret… saying that?" Gevanni said slowly, uncertainly. Near shook his head, slowly.

"Yes. But not as much… that I'm not going to ever have the chance to tell him I was wrong."

Gevanni stared at Near, dumbfounded. He had never once heard Near admit to being wrong, especially not about something he had practically lived by all his life. He'd been repressing his emotions since he was eight at least, according to what he had told him. Then the statements hit him even more. Never have the chance. _Matt and Mello were dead now. _It shook Gevanni a little at the thought. Near had always suppressed emotions, but… he could only imagine how painful that must have been for him.

"I'm sorry, Near," Gevanni whispered, and by instinct he moved to brush the hair from Near's face, fingertips brushing gently across Near's cheek as he did. The smaller boy startled a little at the touch, but didn't move away much to Gevanni's delight. Instead he peeked up at him with sad gray eyes.

"Do not be sorry, Gevanni," he murmured, and Gevanni could have sworn he felt Near's cheeks get a little warmer beneath his hand before he pulled away, though he couldn't be sure because there was only a tiny bit of coloration in Near's face. Ever. "I simply regret. I think…" Near paused for a moment, feeling stupid in what he was saying, but continued none the less, averting his eyes from Gevanni's. "I don't think Mello had very many of those. Regrets, I mean. He always lived his life and acted on his emotions, never hid behind a mask or tried to tame the fire inside him. He did it all. He played, he ran, he jumped, he fought, he laughed, he cried, he loved, he hated… I only realized after he was dead that he had me beat all along."

Gevanni bit his lip, unsure of what to say. But he didn't have to say anything - Near just wanted him to listen. To understand what he was trying to say.

"The world is so cruel, really. The way that the ones who truly live their lives die first. They always die first. And they didn't even die heroes. They didn't even die in good light. They just died Kira-haters. They died with people thinking they were evil."

Stephen bit his lip, uncertain, but he brushed his hair through Near's hair on instinct, trying desperately to comfort the other boy. Near didn't move away - in fact, to Gevanni's surprise he nuzzled lightly closer to Gevanni's hand, closing his eyes half way.

And then he spoke again.

"Gevanni, I…. I really… don't understand it. I don't understand… why the world works this w-way… why…" Gevanni blinked in surprise at Near's breaking voice, and suddenly the albino boy jerked his hand away from Gevanni's, grabbing the spoon and shoveling a spoonful of ice-cream into his mouth. Stephen stared in bewilderment in the sudden change in Near.

The albino boy swallowed the rich chocolate ice-cream that had previously been forgotten, shivering a little. He stared at the empty spoon his mouth for a second, running his tongue along his top lip for a second, a tiny bit of surprise in his eyes. And then he was shaking the tiniest, tiniest bit, just noticeable if you were beside him like Gevanni was. The older man gasped a little and reached out, grabbing Near's arm and leaning over the small table. "Near?"

Near flinched a little and looked up at Gevanni with wide eyes. That's when Stephen realized there were tears there. He was shaking against Gevanni's hand, eyes watery and filling to the brim, jaw shaking just slightly. The older man stared at the young detective in complete disbelief, a course of sharp pain slicing through him as the first few tears escaped from Near's deep, stormy gray eyes.

"It's sweet," Near whispered, tears running down his cheeks and dripping onto Gevanni's hand that was resting on his shoulder. "It's… really sweet."

_Snap. _That's the sound of Gevanni's resolve not to become too emotionally attached to the boy breaking in half. _Snap. _There goes his sanity, too, as he grabbed Near around the waist before he could think about it, whisking the albino boy around the table and pulling him into his arms all in one movement, making the albino boy squeak in surprise. It was only once Stephen was hugging the younger boy that he really realized how impulsive he was being.

It was Near's turn to stammer. "G-Gevanni…?" Near whispered, completely stiff in the older man's arms. Need less to say he was shocked. He hadn't expected Gevanni to even react to the tears in any way except surprise or even disgust, but now he was hugging him? Near had been hugged a maximum of three times, once when his mother left him behind, once when L found him, and once with Mello on a particularly odd day. So the feeling was unfamiliar and yet strangely comforting, the warmth of the SPK member surprising him slightly, even more surprised at how relaxed it made him with Gevanni's arms wrapped around him like that. Almost so comfortable that he could just let his guard down and--

"S-sorry," Gevanni stammered, releasing him, but Near was gripping his arm, out of both tense shock and comfort. Another unfamiliar feeling for Near was tears. He hated the feeling of sticky wetness on his cheeks, and he felt his like his eyes were burning. He had never cried. Not even as a baby.

It was new.

He didn't like it.

Gevanni started to pull him away from him, feeling as if he were violating the boy, but Near clung to him almost painfully tightly, pressing his face into his shirt. "Don't." It wasn't a request - it was nearly an order, his nose pressed into the cloth of Gevanni's shirt, his breath uneven against his chest. The older man tensed, uncertain of what to do in this situation. He hadn't expected this kind of reaction, at all…

Slowly the SPK member allowed himself to relax slightly, brushing his hands through Near's white hair very carefully, surprised to find it untangled. How did he manage to make it look so messy and yet not be tangled? It was soft. It reminded him almost of kitten fur. _Hmmm. Near the kitten, _Gevanni thought aimlessly with a tiny smile, allowing himself to enjoy, if only for a moment, the feeling of holding Near in his arms with the younger boys nose buried in his shirt, even if the attraction was inappropriate… in so many ways.

"Gevanni?"The older man blinked and came alert at the sound of his voice, looking down at Near. He couldn't see his face, not that he probably had a readable expression on his face anyway, minus the tears. "Yes?""Am I foolish to trust you?"Gevanni didn't hesitate to answer. "You can trust me, Near," he murmured, running his hand through Near's hair. He came to notice slightly that people were staring at him - they WERE in the middle of Coldstone after all, and having a crying albino child who looked like a very tall, lanky seven year old on your lap was kind of strange. But he ignored them completely, focusing on the task at hand. It was something he was good at.

Near pulled away and exposed his face again, still clinging to Gevanni like a life-raft, gray eyes now widely looking up at him, the tears dried up already. "And you are not just saying this to gain my trust?"Gevanni chuckled a little at this - he was probably the only one he knew who would ask such a question. But he shook his head honestly, giving him a smile. "Y-yeah. I mean, I want you to trust me but you can trust me. Err…" Gevanni paused, frowning and not finding words to put it. "I mean I'm not just saying that, but you can trust me?"

It was more a question than a statement, and Near blinked at him. Gevanni felt his face grow hot, the blush returning to bother his face and he tried to no avail to hide behind his bangs.

And then something he never thought he'd see came to appearance. Near smiled at him.

Not a ghost of a smile or a tiny smile or a creepy/cute smile, either. A true, genuine smile stretched onto Near's face. He knew it was genuine because, even more shocking - he was laughing. It was a tiny, wistful little laugh, more like a girly little giggle than anything else. It was an awkward little giggle, choked and uncertain as it escaped his lips. Gevanni stared at him in disbelief as he tried to cover his mouth with his hands to no avail, the grin on his face still visible, unable to be hidden by his hands. _He's so cute. _

"You're kind of awkward, Stephen," Near said once the moment was gone, his monotonous voice still there, though tainted with a trace of the joy expressed in the grin that was still there, as if permanently etched onto his face once it appeared. The older man blinked - had he just used his first name? He never had before. The fuzzy feeling in his chest got warmer, and he felt himself almost overflowing with pleasurable feelings from the laugh, from the words, from the smile.

"Yeah, I am," Gevanni admitted. It was true - despite his cool composure and appearance on the outside, he was actually kind of an awkward kind of guy. But he was also always with good intentions, at least. _Good intentions your foot, you're flirting with someone a decade younger than you, _his mind reminded him, but he swatted the thoughts away. "Sorry.""Don't apologize," Near snapped, and the smile was gone immediately, replaced by a frown. Gevanni jumped at his sudden tone of irritation. The albino boy looked just as surprised, blinking, looking more bewildered than angry in an instant. "Oh. Emotions are leaking again."

Gevanni blinked, then smirked at the strange expression. _My emotions are leaking. _Ha. "You're so cute," Gevanni chuckled, shaking his head in hopelessness. As soon as he said he regretted it though, eyes widening and his mouth snapping shut. _Shit. _Of all the stupidest things to say, he says THAT out loud.

Near could not have been more surprised if Mello burst in the door to announce that he wasn't actually dead and that Matt was throwing a disco party on the moon. Seriously. He stared at the older man in disbelief. Was it normal for someone you work with to call you… cute? Honestly Near had never been called cute by anyone since he was about eleven, except for the occasional comment from a ditzy person who thought he was ten years old. For a split second, Near was almost flattered, but then he was confused.

Gevanni's face had turned completely pink while Near thought this over, eyes widening. _Please change the subject. Please change the subject. Please change the--_

"Cute?" Near asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes and frowning. Gevanni sighed and looked at the ceiling, cursing whatever bullshit God had just allowed this to happen. What was he suppose to say? _Oh, yes, Near, I find you completely adorable and even though you are a great deal younger than me and are also my boss I have undeniable feelings for you. But don't worry - I'm not a pedophile. You're the only younger boy I like. So you know, no worries there!_

"Uh…" Gevanni droned intelligently, face still burning, trying to find the answers to his problems in the uneven notches in the ceiling. It bothered him that the panels on the ceiling weren't even, and some of them were shifted off the hinges in that annoying fashion that -- ahh, OCD trail off. He glanced at Near again, trying to smile innocently but knowing it came out as a grimace. What he found on Near's face, however, surprised him.

Near was smirking at him in a knowing fashion, a tiny dust of a blush across his cheeks and his eyes narrowed just slightly, head tilted just slightly to the side. It was almost… flirtatious? Gevanni was frozen - surely he was dreaming. He had seen more emotions from Near in one day than he had in years of working under him.

"Uh?" Near asked almost teasingly, smirk widening on his face. Gevanni shivered a little, still completely caught off guard. If Near had eyebrows - Gevanni wondered if he had been born without them or what..? - they'd surely be raised. "You really think I'm cute?"

Gevanni gave up - this was undeniably his checkmate. If only Halle could see him now - she'd be smirking, too. "Ahah… sorry…" he muttered, trying to avoid eye contact with the boy. He couldn't place what the other boy must be thinking, and he tried to look at anything but Near: at that still-annoying uneven pile of napkins, at the melting chocolate ice-creams, at the people giving them "discreet" glances and odd looks, at the Coldstone employee lady who was staring at them with her jaw slightly slacked, at the salt shaker that was missing it's pepper at the table beside him, at the poster of a rather delicious looking sundae. Anything but Near.

This turned out to be a mistake that proved fatal to any part of him that had been trying to avoid going insane due to Near's unpredictability today, because suddenly there was a pressure on his lips and he snapped around to find Near… kissing him. Gevanni didn't do anything, just standing there as Near pressed his lips just barely and gently against his, unable to move out of complete shock. Oh y es. This was a dream. No doubt about it. Near did not cry, he did not smile, he did not smirk, and most certain of all, Near didn't kiss people. Especially not him.

_But then, if this is just a dream, then why aren't I kissing back?_

Near was just pulling away when Gevanni pulled Near against him closer, returning the pressure that had been given to him. The white haired boy tensed for a second, uncertain, but after all he _had _started this, so he let Stephen kiss him. He let himself enjoy it, too, the warmth and the pressure.. The feeling of simple, blinding, unforgivable perfection, forgetting everything except the man that was kissing him back and holding him close. He'd never guessed what it would be like, kissing someone. Feeling affection at all, actually, was unfamiliar to him. In fact, the only reason he'd even known what to do in the situation of kissing someone was because of Mello - he'd seen him kiss Matt, seen the smirk he'd give the redhead when he thought - no, knew that the other boy wanted a kiss, or to show him that he wanted one without actually having to ask, and had simply mimicked it the best he could. Mello and Matt had always kissed, often right in the middle of public places, usually because they were in the moment like Near was then, sometimes just to freak people out, like Near was unintentionally also doing then. Near had never once had his heart race - not when he was young and was afraid of everything that moved in the dark, not when he almost died at age six, not when he met L, not when Mello beat him up, not when he had a face-off with Kira, not ever, not once. His heart raced then, and he felt a surprising feeling in his stomach… butterflies. He had butterflies in his stomach. He'd never understood that saying, thought it was ridiculous, just like emotions and attachments but he understood it now. All of it.

And then the moment was over and Gevanni broke the kiss, not because he wanted to but because there was sadly a requirement called breathing he had to meet, even if it meant breaking a perfect moment.

Gevanni stared at Near, still seeing stars from the kiss, disbelieving. It was nothing like he'd thought it would be - it was such an innocent kiss, and yet it was full of buzz. He'd never believed in "seeing fireworks" but he was fairly certain he'd felt something quite explosive there. Maybe it was the shock. But either way, as he stared at Near, a million things came to him, looking in to those wide, uncertain gray eyes. _Why did he kiss me? Does he really like me too? Why is he being so… not near-ish today? Is he mad at me? Is he as confused as I am…? That's a stupid question, of course he's not, he never is. But… what now? What do I do? What should I say? _

"Does Gevanni really like me, or did he just kiss me back because I kissed him first?"

The question caught Gevanni off guard again, snapping out of his thoughts to stare at the albino boy. He was giving him that puzzled, Near-look again, gray eyes searching his face. Patiently sitting in wait for a response.

He got one, finally, as Gevanni laughed. The sound made Near flinch - was this some sort of joke? But no, he wasn't amused, he realized - he was overwhelmed. He was shaking his head as he laughed, trying to wave it away with his hand. "Near, don't be ridiculous," he laughed, ruffling Near's hair ad making the younger boy screw his face up in confusion. "Of course I kissed you back because I like you. You don't just go around kissing random people you don't have feelings for."_Feelings for. _Did that mean Gevanni really liked him too? Near found it almost impossible - after all, for Gevanni to have liked him before would mean liking that static, emotionless part of him too. It wasn't like he'd opened up to him before this.

Gevanni had similar thoughts, choking down his laughter and replacing it with only a grin, feeling like a nervous schoolboy on his first date or something ridiculous. People were still staring at them, he knew, but he ignored it, Near's gaze much more interesting to him.

"So Gevanni has feelings for me." It wasn't a question.

Gevanni answered anyway. "Of course.""Why?"_Why? _Wow, doesn't get much anti-self-esteem than that. Gevanni frowned. _Why? _"Because I like you.""But why? I don't do anything to make you like me. I'm not even nice.""You are," Gevanni argued, brushing his hands through Near's hair again, meeting the blank gray gaze with his own. "You're wonderful, Near, you shouldn't sell yourself short. Besides, call me crazy, but you're important to me."

Near's lips and eyes quivered, looking a little confused, and Gevanni blinked in surprise when the slight dust of a blush that had been there before transformed into a complete, burning blush that spread over his face. "Wonderful?" Near whispered a little shakily, gray eyes searching Gevanni's eyes in something resembling disbelief.

"Of course."A tiny, quirky half-smile inched across Near's lips, tentatively, an almost sad expression coming along with it. Gevanni tilted his head in confusion to the response, earning a tiny sigh from the albino boy before he admitted quietly, "Nobody's ever… talked to me like that before. Called me wonderful or anything, I mean." Near shrugged, looking embarrassed, "Sorry for being so emotional."

"Don't apologize," Gevanni said teasingly, brushing his hand across Near's cheek. "You can be as emotional as you want. Nobody's judging you, Near."Near frowned, as if he didn't believe him, but only for a moment before the frown was replaced by the usual docile, near-expressionless look on his face, only slightly brushed over with contentment. "Okay. And… Gevanni?"

"Hmm?"

"I really don't think… that emotions or relationships are unnecessary or stupid anymore. They're… important." Near frowned a little, looking down and picking at the lint on Gevanni's shirt absently before continuing, softly, almost to the point where Gevanni didn't hear it. "And…and I think you're wonderful, too."

Gevanni grinned before he could help himself. Realizing with a jolt of relief that he didn't have to hold back anymore. And so he cupped Near's chin in his hands and pulled him forward, black hair falling over his face as he pressed his lips against the boys, pulling Near against him ravenously. Near didn't hesitate to kiss back, swept into the current of emotions and passion that he'd never even dared to approach before, both of them loving every minute of it.

_You sick fuck. _Gevanni's mind reminded him. _There are people here._

This time, Gevanni ignored it.

*******After note of Epic Proportions********

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, NEAR!?"

"Ohhh, this is so priceless. Someone get me a ghostie camera."

Matt gaped in shock and disbelief from outside the window, shivering slightly as some woman passed right through them without a notice (that kind of thing happened a lot, when you were a ghost.) Mello was gaping, pointing and yelling hysterically in shock and disbelief.

"You know, this is kind of your fault," the redhead grinned at the thought, "If you hadn't been around, he wouldn't be having a meltdown and so he would never have Mr. Hot-Dark-Haired-Guy to make out with to make him feel better.""shut up," Mello hissed, but he was grinning. "He is cute though.""I wonder if Near knows that Coldstone employee lady with the ugly hair is taking picture-phone pictures…" Matt mumbled thoughtfully, shaking his head.

"Oh, psh, who cares?" Mello crackled, then stopped short, eyes widening as he stared through the window at the couple who were still kissing on that booth. "Holy shit, Matt, Near's a hot mess.""Shocking, isn't it?" the redhead chuckled, tossing his arm around Mello and squeezing his shoulder, huge grin spread across his face. "Our little Near is growing up.""Don't make me sound like someone on Desperate Housewives," Mello grumbled, but there was a smile on his lips. Matt rolled his eyes - how in the world Mello even made a connection to that show was impossible for him to understand. Mello frowned. "Wait… if he's 'our little near' then that means I'm an abusive mother…""SO YOU ADMIT YOU'RE THE MOTHER!" Matt cried before he could help himself, and Mello's eyes grew round as he replayed his last words in his head, whirling to stare at Matt with his mouth open in rage. Matt laughed hysterically, dodging Mello's wild, playful smacks even though they wouldn't really damage him at all.

After a minute of harmless tussling Mello stared in the window again, twitching a little, halfway between being disgusted and being impressed. "Doesn't that boy need oxygen?""Don't know. Probably," Matt replied, staring at them suspiciously. "How old do you think Gevanni is?""That's his name? Hm." Mello shrugged helplessly, shaking his head. "I dunno. He looks about thirty to me.""Wow. Age difference much..?" Matt noted."What-ev-errrrr…" Mello stretched out the word, flipping his hair over his shoulder and rolling his eyes. "As long as it's love, right?"

"That is so cheesy.""You told me the same damn line when I asked you if you thought being gay was okay!"

"That's different!"

"It's true."Matt paused, frowning thoughtfully. "yeah, you're right. As long as Near's happy, we're happy, right?""Exactly!" Mello said, nodding, then stopped mid-nod, realizing what he'd just said, and Matt grinned extremely widely. He gaped in disbelief. "No! No, so not what I meant! I do NOT care if Near is happy or not!""AHA! DESPRATE HOUSEWIFE ADMITS HER LOVE!" Matt cried, clapping his hands and running away from another round of smacks from the blonde, laughing and dodging the blows, completely and utterly in their own blissful little world, watching Near live the life he should have all along.

"Okay, we are so not ending it cheesily like that!" Mello announced suddenly, and Matt frowned, Mello stomping his foot on the ground with a growl on his face. "We're ending it here, abruptly and stupidly, as to make this less corny than it already is.""You're horrible.""I know."

_**A/N: I'd just like to say: I hate you, Mello. But not realy. Cuz… I love you.**_

_**Anyways, I'd just like to say that I learned to love this couple completely randomly overnight reading some really awesome fanfics with them in it XD don't murder me if you dislike this couple, just skip the story. Srsly.**_

_**So… yeah… this storys so lame XD whatever. Review it anyway. Make fun of my stupidity. Also, it doesn't really go with the theme, which is (obviously) "breath again" Then again, that's probably what's going through near's head when he's making out with Gevanni - "I realy, realy need to **__**breathe again **__**before I die of oxygen-deprivation…" **_


	11. Memory

_**A/N: Oh ffff, I just did a oneshot about remembering! Damn these stupid prompts! *flails and sakajos* Well, here goes anyway… Oh, and oh joy, more NEAR. T_T god dammit… oh, p.s. there's been some problems with the paragraphs seperating...? I press enter + it works on Microsoft but it changes on doc manager...idk why... sorry about that XD**_

Memories are something many people would describe as priceless. Something to hold on to. Something precious to never be released. Something to talk about with friends, something to remember along with the people you shared the moments with. To hold on to with all of our might's.

So why do we forget them so often?

Memories (noun):

the mental capacity or faculty of retaining and reviving facts, events, impressions, etc., or of recalling or recognizing previous experiences.

That is what a memory is. It's right there in the dictionary. Word for word. I should know. I copied and pasted.

It was these very things, these memories, that I had fleeting through my mind as I sat plopped in the usual position on the floor of Wammy's house in a particular room. Not my room, but Matt and Mello's. It was exactly as the redheaded boy had left it - nobody wanted that room anymore. Not after Matt started cutting himself - there was blood all over the floor in the corner to prove it that not even Roger could get out of the carpet. It was better that way anyway - Mello and Matt were important parts of Wammys. We couldn't tear away the memories. That's what Roger had said, anyway.

Me, I don't know. I hadn't even come to visit this room since the end of the Kira case. It had been about a mouth since I'd been to Wammys at all, much less in this room.

It was almost eerie, sitting there on the rug. There were still posters on the wall that Matt hadn't ever taken down - Mello's Johnny Depp, Vampire Weekend, and Paramore posters, and Matt's Nintendo posters. All up on the walls. The bed was made - that had been Rogers doing, neither of the boys ever made their beds. There was a chocolate stain on the desk. A dent in the wall where Mello had smashed his fist into the wall - it had surprisingly hurt his hand more than it had the wall, though. Cigarette burns on the carpet. Still the same.

But none of that was what interested me. What interested me was the things splayed out in front of me now, that I had found under Matt's bed. How nobody had found it before, or at least bothered to look at it, was beyond me. There were several things.

One was a photo album, which was what I was looking at now. It wasn't often I choked up, since I'm a rather emotionless person (though I've been told by Gevanni that I'm opening up a lot more, which is most likely a good thing) but I was choking up as I looked through the pictures.

The first one in the front was a picture of the three of us, all bunched together. Matt had his arm around Mello, who looked irritated but he was blushing like mad. I was sitting between them, Mello using me as an armrest oh-so kindly. I looked blank, as usual.

There was another one of Mello, who was running away from whoever had the camera in drag. I guess he didn't want pictures, splaying his hands out trying to keep the camera from seeing him, but you could still tell he was in a black dress. I wondered how Matt managed to get him into that.

There were a lot of pictures. Mostly of Matt and Mello. Some of Linda. Some of L. Some of me, too. All of them brought back painful memories, of fighting and loving and laughing. Of hurting and healing and playing and resting. Of a childhood I never really got to enjoy.

I felt stupid for wanting to cry, flipping through endless pictures. How had nobody never found these? Surely they should be burned… but no, Kira was dead. That was useless now. I sigh and brush my hands along a picture, one of my favorites. I remembered the day splayed out perfectly in my mind, playing like an old movie in my mind.

_An eight year old me was laying outside in the grass, playing with a transformer toy that I kept transforming and untransforming, over and over again. That was the only entertaining part of the toy, really - I wasn't one to go on "adventures" with my toys, or make them pretend to do things. It was trying to transform them as fast as possible that was fun, for me anyway. _

"_TACKLE!!" _

_I gasped in shock at the sound, realizing what it was too late as Mello barreled into me, sending us both rolling down the hill. Matt was on our heels, jumping in and piling on top of Mello (and me beneath them) with a full-blown laugh. I was squished underneath them, confused and wide eyed, but Mello was laughing like a maniac._

"_I win, I got him first!" Mello declared, then grinned at me with that creepy yet somehow attractive maniac smile. "You just got tackled."_

_"I realize that, Mello," I reminded him, but Mello ignored me, trying to shove Matt off of him. Before he could, though, the redhead pulled out his camera - which he abused and took pictures of everyone with, no matter the time or place - holding it out and grinning._

"_SAY CHEESE!" he announced. Mello squealed in protest, trying to grab the camera, and I just stared at it, not understanding. Where was the cheese? I didn't see any cheese._

_And then the camera flashed and blinded my eyes, making me see stars - maybe it was also the fact I was being crushed - and I yelped. Matt was crackling happily as he hopped to his feet, turning to help Mello up. _

_The redhead suddenly looked at me, green eyes narrow and studying. I froze under his gaze, uncertain as to why he was looking at me, and then he grinned and said, "Hey, tomorrows your birthday, isn't it?"_

_I nod. "Yes, I was born tomorrow eight years ago," I confirm (oh, yeah, I was actually seven then. My bad.) just as Mello gets off of me, ignoring Matt's hand and hurrying ahead of the redhead, a little spring in his step. The redhead gives me an uncertain, slightly apologetic smile before hurrying after Mello, calling for him to wait up._

I'm not sure why it was a precious memory. Maybe it was because it was the first time anyone ever "played" with me. Even if I was the one being used as the "toy" and not really being included in the fun, it was none the less the first time anyone really acknowledged me in a playful manner. It was strange, really - I don't know why they chose me as a target. I found out later they did the same thing to Linda and a few of the other girls, but I was the only guy they did it to. Not that I'm sexist, I'm just saying.

I sigh and close the album, turning to the other items I had found in the box. The first thing I noticed was a book, and I picked it up, studying it suspiciously. What was this? Suspicious I opened it up, and I realized with a start that it was in Mello's handwriting. It was about B.

I don't know how long I sat there, reading that. He had guessed correctly - I was indeed the first one to read the book. I smiled softly, allowing my emotions to seep through slightly. It was still Mello - you could tell it was him by the little comments he put in, or the way that it was written. I was momentarily surprised that he didn't mention Matt, but then I waved the thought away. Of course he didn't mention Matt - he didn't want the redhead to be in danger by including him in written format for Kira to possibly find. He hadn't expected Matt to die so soon. Probably hadn't even expected _himself _to die so soon until the day drew close that his life was to end.

_End. Right. Mello is dead. Their both dead. _It was a little surprising how painful that thought was. Dead. The only people that would understand me right now were dead - even if they didn't like me particularly much, I still missed them.

Putting down the book I scanned the box for more. I found some more, too. I found a journal, young Matt going on about secrets. I didn't read that one, though, further than the first page - better to respect the other boy's privacy. I would deal with my own curiosities another day.

Sighing I hoist myself up to my feet, picking up the box as I do. It was a struggle, I admit, getting to the door with the box to balance in my arms as well as myself. If I hadn't mentioned this before, I hate my legs. They kind of disable me, so I'm not good at running, or walking for that matter. I feel kind of foolish, now, for not letting Gevanni come with me to help me walk, but I had been too proud. Now, I wished he had come - not only to help me walk, but to help me cope with the memories that were flooding back into my mind.

This was why I bottled up my emotions. This was why I didn't let myself leak before.

But where had that gotten me? Here, all alone, in Wammys house? With only small memories of the ones that I wished I could have been friendlier with now? It left me here, with nothing but questions in my mind.

What if I had tried harder to get Mello to work with me? Would he still be alive?What if I had been friendlier with them? Would I be happier?What if we had been friends?If I could go back and change everything… would I?

Did they have any regrets?Did they miss me, too? Or was I forgotten in the afterlife?

…was there an afterlife?

I sighed, swatting the questions away. Pointless questions with no answers. What was a question anyway, if it had no answer? Easier to not ask at all. It was like…like a puzzle without a final piece. Like a candle without a flame. Like a lover without a love. Like Matt without Mello in those days - just a Matt, just a boy, just a follower without anyone to follow, without anyone to dedicate himself to. Just there. Better perhaps to never have been there at all than to stand around doing nothing at all, accomplishing nothing.

Shuffling my way down the hall, I realized with a sad frown the truth I had been avoiding. _Everyone needs something to live for. _You can't just go on in live without a goal, without anything to do. Without someone to love, you'll just be… there. Just a blip in the universe without a propose. Even if the love is unrequited, you have to love, weather it be a partner or a son or simply a friend.

That had been me. I had been one without love, with no partner or friend. Without even a family. I guess I felt sad then. I guess I had been lonely. I don't know. I had suppressed my emotions for so long, I didn't even know what I was feeling anymore back then.

Right then, I'm sure I felt sick.

"Near! Back already?"

I look up at Gevanni, who is waiting for me outside the door, a wide smile on his face. He looks younger than usual, happier. He reaches down with his big hands, ruffling my white hair with a grin. "You okay, Near?"And then I smile, and I'm sure I'm happy, I'm sure that I'm relieved, and I take his hand, pulling the box into the crook of my arm and clinging to the other man with the other. Glad for the support - physical and mental.

Inwardly, I let myself apologize.I was sorry. Sorry to Matt, for never returning his uncertain, awkward smiles. Sorry to Mello, for making him feel in superior or second best, for leading him to his death without even meaning to, for letting him hate me so much. Sorry to L, for trying so hard to pass him up and not letting myself see how much I cared about him, deep down. Sorry to Watari, for not trying hard enough to be friendly like he said I should, and for taking him for granted. Sorry to Roger, for being rude to him. Sorry to the SPK members who died, for not trying harder to protect them. Sorry to Light Yagami, even though it wasn't my fault that you picked up that Death Note, I could have stopped you from killing yourself, should have. Sorry to Halle, for using her to get to Mello and acting so sexist without meaning to. Sorry to any of the students I looked down on. Sorry to my parents, for never properly mourning their deaths. And sorry to myself, too. Sorry to the younger self of my memories. Sorry for not letting that self truly live.

And then I squeeze Gevanni's hand and follow him to the car, setting off for what I believe will be just another mental capacity or faculty of retaining and reviving facts, events, impressions, etc., or of recalling or recognizing previous experiences. Or rather…

Just another memory to cherish forever.

_**A/N: Near is a corny bastard with too many complicated words. Give him cookies, he deserves them.**_

_**Everyone and their mother has done a fic like this XD sorry I couldn't be more creative!**_


	12. Insanity

There are very few things that I didn't understand.

One of them was hormones. Hormones are these insane things that don't make any sense at all. People and doctors and parents and shit pretend to understand them, but screw them, they make no sense. They toy with your feelings in pointless ways. One day you're happy, one day your depressed, and the next your growing hair in places you don't want to (aka, anywhere other than your head). And then the next day you want to make out with your best friend. Or maybe that's just me.

I was fifteen, when you're fifteen, things are rather.. Confusing. Especially when you're starting to realize you're probably gay. Okay. Definitely gay. Especially when the reason you know is because of your best friend. Especially when he was sitting before you in all his red-headed glory with huge, flabbergasted green eyes, making you feel like a guilty bastard. Especially if you're Mihael Keehl. Especially when you're me.

But first of all I should explain what happened.

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon. Nothing was particularly special about that day, other than the immense heat, which was driving me mad. The air conditioning here at Wammys was awful. I was stretched out on my bed, munching on a chocolate bar as usual, thinking about how good it was and trying desperately to ignore the heat while I started on my second hour studying Criminal Profiling textbooks. Augh. I loved that class, but it started getting not as interesting on the second hour.

The constant video-game sounds from the television wasn't helping me stay focused either. Matt was on level at least a million on that stupid Mario game of his, he had to be, because he'd been playing longer than I had been reading, which was ridiculous. The stupid redheaded gamer was going to get his eyes melted, crouched in front of the TV and furiously moving his fingers on the buttons, making constant little clickclickclick sounds. I didn't look at him, keeping my eyes on the book. Any longer of this heat and I was surely going to die.

Finally I gave in to my boredom and threw the book across the room. "I AM SO FUCKING HOT!" I screamed, letting out a satisfied smirk when Matt yelped in surprise, turning to him.

Matt turned to me, pausing his game with a smirk, waggling his eyebrows. "Somebody's feeling egotistic today," he teased, earning him a pillow in the face. I giggled despite myself (Yeah, you heard me right. Giggle. My voice was finally matured to sound a like a guys - thank god - but my laugh was still as girly as ever) and took another bite of chocolaty goodness.

"It's not egotistic if it's the truth, bastard," I replied, hopping off the bed to plop down beside him. Matt uncaused his game by then, though he was somehow finding time in his flurry of button-pressing to take a swig of water, which I eyed thirstily. Without really thinking about it I snatched the bottle form him, taking a large gulp from it. Mmmmm, WATER. The heat was leaving me absolutely and completely dry. Matt raised an eyebrow at me as I slammed the bottle back to the ground dramatically, licking my lips. "Good god, I'm seriously burning up."

Matt nodded in agreement, seeming to finish whatever he was doing in the game because he tossed the controller back to the ground, turning to me. "I know. I hear the air conditioning is working in Rogers room, though.""Augh. Selfish ass," I hissed, wiping the sweat from my forehead. I hated sweating - it was making my hair stick to the sides of my face. I paused as I brushed the hair from my face. Matt was sweating too, and I noticed vaguely that his own hair was messy around his face, sweat dripping down from his forehead as well. I fidgeted as he took a drink of water, some of it dripping down from his lips, and suddenly had the urge to--

Whoa. Backstep. _Women. Bras. Lipstick. Miniskirts. _I recited in my head, looking away quickly. Matt gave me a quizzical look but I ignored it, grabbing my chocolate and taking giant chunk off of it. _You are not gay._

Matt stared at me for a second before shrugging and turning off the TV, getting up and getting shoes on. "I'm going down to the computer lab, do you want to come?"

I considered this. Matt usually went down there to check his emails and such, since he didn't have a laptop, and I didn't have anything else to do. So I nodded and followed him down to the computer lab.

As usual the computer-filled room was supervised by the ugliest woman on the planet - of whose name I once knew but forgot - and was full of nerdy kids. Like Matt. Only worse. As in full-out nerdy, like those kids with huge framed glasses and pulled up pants and shit. And then some normal people too. Err, as normal as you could be in Wammys anyway. I was pleased to see that it was Near free, as usual.

We took a seat in the back, and I scooted a chair up to be beside Matt so I could see. The close proximity was kind of awkward, my arm brushing up against his. OR at least. It would have been. If I was gay. Which I'm not.

Matt clicked into his email (his screen name was hilariously GoggledGamer23, which I found amusing but somehow fitting. I didn't get his password, he types too fast, but it had five letters) and scrolled down. Normally you'd think someone would be uncomfortable with someone peeking over your shoulder so obviously and reading your emails, but Matt's never been one to hide things from me so he seemed pretty laid back about it. So far he'd just gotten some alerts (I didn't' actually know he read fan fiction. Fancy that…) which he ignored and an email from that bitch, Linda. We were silently sitting around reading emails and surfing the web when suddenly a million popups came up on the screen. Now, I'm not good with computers but I had a feeling that wasn't good, especially when Matt cursed "Holy shit!" under his breath.

My eyes widened as I read one of them.

**ViaPURE - The Worlds Best Male Enhancement!!!**

**Fast Acting! Works within 20 minutes!**

**Bigger, Harder, Longer lasting Erections!**

**Increase sexual stamina and libido.**

**More powerful and longer orgasms!**

**Eliminate pre-mature ejaculation.**

**Enlarges you penis to max length & girth!**

Matt's eyes widened possibly even further than mine did, almost choking on oxygen. Immediately the mantra of reminder swarmed into my mind.

_Women. Bras. Lipstick. Miniskirts. You are not gay._

"Fuck it all," Matt cursed under his breath. I couldn't help but notice that he squirmed before clicking out of it, his entire face burning red, as if in competition with his hair.

_Women. Bras Lipstick. Miniskirts. You are not gay._

An awkward silence, then Matt laughed out loud and looked at me, his grin revealing dimples on his cheeks. "Damn, clicked out, too late for you now, huh?" He joked, punching my shoulder. My face immediately started burning, even though I knew he was teasing, and scooted away from him automatically. Uncertainty flickered in Matt's eyes, staring at me, and I knew for sure he was only teasing, his smile vanishing. "Err… sorry. I was kidding."

"Fuck you…" I muttered, brushing the hair out of my eyes. No, I was not limited in size or anything, but any mention of my PENIS by the other boy immediately made me uncomfortable. Damn him. Damn him to a million hells for making me feel uncomfortable for no reason.

Matt made it worse by rolling his eyes. "You'd like that." He replied teasingly, obviously trying to lighten the mood. I was tempted to yell at him that I would NOT, because I was NOT gay and I liked WOMEN and MINISKIRTS and BRAS and LIPSTICK… but I didn't. I simply stuck out my tongue at him and crossed y arms over my chest.

"Are you done with your stupid emails and shit yet?" I muttered, changing the subject. Matt nodded, looking grumpy. "Yeah," he replied, "But I was going to go search for something."

I nodded nonchalantly, still feeling uncomfortable. Matt was leaning forward with his elbow rested on the desk, one finger absently in his mouth. I wondered why it was he always chewed on his fingers - he bit his fingernails once, but I complained that it was extremely gross, so now he just had the habit of his fingers being in his mouth. Which was seriously making me uncomfortable, squirming in my seat and trying to pay attention to the desktop screen and not Matt's thoughtful face. Not the way he kept mumbling to himself or that wonderful softness that was his lips. Or the slight sweat that was beading off his forehead. Or the close proximity we were sharing. Or the heat in the room that was suddenly a lot warmer than it should have been. Or the fleeting images that had come along with the advertisement that were still lingering in the back of my head. Or--I shot upwards, standing up and scooting the chair back violently, getting a strange look from the supervisor across the room (who was still ugly) my face burning and the silent mantra going through my head.

_Women. Bras. Lipstick. Miniskirts._

_You are not gay._

Matt looked up at me with confusion, turning off the computer and standing up to follow me without question. I backed up, stumbling over my chair slightly. "Dude? What's wrong?" Matt asked cautiously, his hand reaching out to grab mine, but I moved away quickly, hurrying away from his general direction. Damn him to every single fucking hell there was, I thought. Damn him for making me think stupid things. It wasn't like I was fantasizing about him - they were just stupid little thoughts. All because of that advertisement. Damn advertisements.

I knew Matt was following me without looking over my shoulder, because he always was.

"Come on man, at least tell me what the hell--" Matt insisted, and I whirled on him, pointing at him accusingly. He came skirting to a halt, his face inches from my finger as I glowered at him. "…is going on?" he finished half heartedly, crossing his eyes to stare at my finger in a stupid yet adorable way.

Or would be adorable. If I were gay.

Which I'm not.

"YOU." I hissed irritated, "You are doing that on propose!"

Matt backed up a step, looking utterly in completely confused. "What?" he cries, green eyes wide under his goggles. "Doing WHAT on propose!"

"That…. That thing!" I insist, waving my arms into the air. How did he not know he was doing it? Surely he must know. Surely he was trying to turn me into a total faggot just so he could go off and make fun of me, probably go and tell Near and Linda and everyone.

I knew I was being stupid. You don't have to remind me.

When Matt continued to just stare I huffed and shoved my hands into my pockets, squirming. There were people in the hallway staring at us, I noticed, but I ignored them. "You know…" I muttered, refusing to believe that those stupid thoughts were put there by my own mind, which obviously they were, but it was just a stupid denial stage. Surely, surely, SURELY those thoughts were pointless.

"I really don't." Matt muttered desperately, shuffling his feet in awkwardness. I could see his hands go to reach for his game boy on instinct, which he did when he was uncomfortable with a conversation or situation, but he didn't. I sigh, letting a wave of irritation out. He was completely right - I was being ridiculous.

"Sorry, man," I mutter, turning and walking back to our shared room. "I'm just being stupid." Matt didn't reply, simply following me like the obedient dog he was always compared to. I was done fighting with nothing - I just needed more sleep. I was just sexually deprived. I was just bored. I was just being stupid. I was just… homo-curious. Yeah. Not actually a homosexual, just having it in my mind without actually meaning to. There.

Victory.

(Sorta.)

****

Matt was sitting beside me on the couch, playing his games. I watched him from the corner of my eye, squirming. Upon seeing me looking at him he turned off the game, looking at me quizzically. "Something the matter, Mello?"

I sighed and scooted closer to him. "Yeah, kind of."

Matt studied me for a moment, then grinned. "I know what it is. You're in love with me, right?" I blinked in surprise, and his hand reached up and brushed the hair from my eyes. I blushed. "Well that's good, because I love you too, and we can be together forever."

I felt tears in my eyes. "Really?""Really." he whispered, then leaned forward to kiss me. I smiled and leant in to meet him half way, our lips just barely brushing and--

**BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.**

"Shit!"

My eyes flew open, shooting up in shock as I was violently jerked from my dream, falling out of my bed and crashing onto my back, rolling still tangled in the blankets to the hardwood floor. "What the hell!?" I cried, fighting with the blankets. The annoying beeping was coming from the alarm clock beside my bed, which was annoyingly STILL ON even though it was Saturday. Freeing myself from the grasp of the comforter I smashed my fist on the sleep button.

Matt, who was strangely up at this hour, looked up from where he was sitting on the bed. He had his game boy on mute, his eyes wide and questioning at me. Ah, of course. It was all a dream.

A stupid homo dream.

**BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.**

I screeched in annoyance, grabbing the alarm clock and taking out my frustration on it, throwing it at the wall. Matt cursed in surprise as it crashed against the wall, falling with pieces now detached to the ground. I huffed angrily, crossing my arms. "Why'd you do that!? What'd that alarm clock ever do to you?" Matt scolded, but I saw the smile on his lips.

I only scowled. "Damn thing deserved it for being so annoying," I grumbled, sitting back down on my bed with irritation. It was probably better that it woke me up, really, since that dream was completely ridiculous and best not continued in my head. So really, I had just murdered an innocent alarm clock… but whatever, I could take out my anger on whatever the hell I wanted, and it was the alarm clock or Matt. I'd prefer to choose Matt, when he hadn't voluntarily tried to make me gay.

Except I wasn't gay.

SO ha-ha Matt.

You failed.

…not that he was trying.

"I'm so sure," matt said, rolling his eyes and looking back to his game, leaning against the wall. "You're the one who forgot to turn it off." I scowl at him, putting my hands on my hips.

"And you're the one who neglected to turn it off FOR me like you usually do," I remind him, and Matt barked out a laugh, rolling his eyes again. Eyes that, I realized with sudden discomfort, I had never actually gotten to see goggle-less. What color were they…?

"Hey, Mellonie," Matt scolded teasingly with his girl nickname for me, which I shot him a death-glare for using, and waved his finger in mock-disapproval, "I'm not your maid."

"Damn straight you aren't, I don't pay you, you're my dog. Now sit and be quiet," I snap, which shuts Matt up, but the grin is still plastered on his stupid face. I huff and plop down on the ground. That dream was so stupid. We didn't even have a couch. Which was exactly why I was sitting on the ground to watch TV - we had no couch and no damn way was I sitting on Matt's bed. It was simply something I didn't feel like doing - definitely not because I was scared from that dream.

That was ridiculous.

…completely.

I flipped on the television, surfing the channels. Fucking morning TV. There was nearly nothing on. I mean seriously. I flipped through channels for a while before pausing to reach over and grab a chocolate bar that I always kept on the table, but I blinked in realization that I must have already eaten the one I had there the other day. Matt, who I didn't think was paying attention, suddenly tossed a Wonka bar at my head. It knocked me on the top of my skull and I yelped In surprise, making Matt snicker.

I shoot him another glare, but this time it's half hearted because, hell, this was chocolate we were talking about. I take it and rip it open eagerly, turning back to the TV.

And of course, just perfectly, there was some cheesy soap opera on. I went to turn it, but I stopped, fingers lingering over the buttons thoughtfully. There was a couple, a blonde woman and a red-haired man currently going at it on the screen, the man having pushed the woman against the wall. I don't know exactly what compelled me to stare at the screen, somewhat curious and somewhat repulsed and somewhat profoundly interested. How did kissing even work like that? I mean really, it was actually kind of gross if you think about it. All kissing was, was pressing your lips to somebody else's and spreading germs and saliva everywhere. How sexy. Does that mean every time you eat a sandwich your also showing it you love it? "What the hell are you watching, Mello?" Matt suddenly asked, and immediately I smashed my hand down on the remote, turning the channel to some newscast which was spurting shit about Kira. I muttered 'nothing' and quickly flipped through channels. I could practically hear Matt frown as he got up and sat down beside me. I looked at him, giving him a death glare without early meaning to.

Matt didn't seem to care about it, his face concerned. "Mell, is something bothering you?"_Yes. Yes, you son of a bitch, a lot of things are bothering me and it's all your fault. _"None of your business," I said angrily, standing. Matt, to my irritation, stands up too, grabbing my shoulders. I flinched, Matt roughly holding me in place, bending a little to be at my height.

"It is too my business," he insisted, looking me in the eyes. "I'm your best friend, Mello, aren't I? You can tell me anything!" I flinched, suddenly angry. What right did he have to tell me what I could and couldn't tell him? He didn't know everything about me. He couldn't read my mind. I swatted his hands off my shoulders, shoving him away, giving Matt an irritated look on his face but I didn't care.

"No, it's not."

"You're so fucking stubborn," Matt suddenly yelled, and to my extreme surprise shoved me right back. I stumble only barely but waste no time in tackling him to the ground, his head smacking painfully against the hardwood floor. He gasps in shock and possibly pain and I hesitate, a little bit worried for a second, but Matt throws me off of him, not hesitating to tackle ME and pin me to the ground, hands on my shoulders and roughly holding me to the ground. "Just tell me what's wrong, dammit!"

"NO!" I shout, wriggling. I'm surprised to find that he's actually stronger than me, or at least heavier, because I can't break free. Matt's eyes narrow, but I can see hurt flickering in them. "GET THE HELL OFF ME, MATT!"

"Mells…" Matt's voice is suddenly soft, but he doesn't let go. I stop squirming at his tone, silently fuming underneath him. It's only then that I realize the compromising position we're in and am forced to fight a blush. Matt's grip on my shoulders loosens a bit, his face a concerned one. "Did I… do something?"

His voice is pathetic, his green eyes watery and searching. Obviously the I'm-so-pissed vibe was gone, in him anyway, because he looked like a confused puppy now. It made me uncomfortably sad. I hated making him mad, he was making that cute face…

_Women. Bras. Lipstick. Miniskirts._

I squirm under the close proximity, my glare retreating from my face to be replaced by only irritation. "I-it's none of your business," I repeat, even though it totally was. I was feeling hotter than before, and I suddenly wondered if it was because of the weather or because of Matt. His lips were parted slightly, his goggled eyes searching mine. Those stupid goggles. I couldn't see the color of his eyes, co uldn't tell…

"Mell, come on," he pleaded, not getting off of me. But I wasn't listening. I could only hear the "not gay" mantra echoing through my mind. _Women. Bras. Lipstick. Miniskirts. _

I reached up suddenly and grabbed his goggles, pulling them away and slapping them to his forehead. Matt reeled in surprise, releasing me, obviously finding the action painful. I take the opportunity to scoot backwards hastily, moving out of his range. Matt's eyes are squeezed shut, getting used to the light, his hand covering them with a groan. "Shit, Mells," he hissed, rubbing his forehead. I watch him expectantly for opening of his eyes, but he doesn't.

I sigh and move closer to him without really thinking about it. "Sorry," I mutter a bit angrily, but now mostly towards myself. "Just a lot on my mind right now."

_Women. Bras. Lipstick. Miniskirts._

Matt's eyes opened and he looked at me, straight into my eyes, his face softening.

_WOMEN. BRAS. LIPSTICK. MINISKIRTS._

My heart skipped a beat, staring into his eyes that I'd somehow neglected to see before. He was looking at me with this soft expression that made me choke. "What kind of things, Mells?" he whispered carefully, his expression making it clear he was trying to understand.

_Women. Bras. Lipstick. Miniskirts! Women! --_

His eyes were green.

I'm not sure what hit me and I'm exactly sure that Matt certainly didn't, because I moved forward automatically, so that my face was inches from his. He froze immediately as I came inches from him, feeling his cautious breath on my lips as I stared into his emerald orbs of eyes. They were beautiful. How could Matt compliment my boring blue ones when he had these wonderful things hidden all this time? I felt my heart completely melt and my brain stop.

"Mells?"

My body moved on it's own, closing the distance between my lips and his. He was frozen beneath me, not returning nor rejecting my kiss. It lasted only a second. Maybe two, but it was pushing it. But in that second all denial skipped out of my brain and his soft lips were on mine, a million emotions crashing on me all at once. In those one-to-two seconds I was blissful, I was happy, and I wanted more. Everything was perfect for those one-to-two seconds, everything was okay, everything was warm and fuzzy, and I didn't hear mantras going through my head because it felt right, so right…

And then the moment was over and I pulled away from him, my consciousness coming back to me in a rush.

_You are so gay. And you just kissed your best friend._

Matt's eyes were huge as disks, still frozen in place as I moved away from him. Immediately shame and guilt crept through me, choking any hopes of explanation. I racked my brain for a good excuse, heart pounding in my chest as I waited for a reaction. I didn't get one, unless him staring at me with expressionless shock counted. I really don't think he would have been more surprised if I'd jumped up and started singing some shitty Justin Bieber song and tossing all my chocolate out the window.

Two things dawned on me then.

I'd kissed my best friend. Obviously. But that also meant… what? That I liked him?

That was my first kiss.

And that it was probably his too.

Okay that was three things. Even fucking better, right? But I just kept staring at him, my face slowly earning itself the worst blush ever. Matt was still staring at me ridiculously, looking almost painfully confused. Slowly he seemed to register what had just happened as I did, his hands flying to his mouth, a blush burning on his pale skin, eyes glimmering with realization.

"…that was your first kiss, huh?" I choked out stupidly. Matt nodded a tiny nod, squeezing his eyes shut. I felt horribly guilty. I was a bastard. A shitty, shitty bastard who'd acted on impulse and stupid hormones that nobody really understood. And I'd stolen Matt's first kiss. And he wasn't even gay.

After a long pause I turned away, face burning. "Um… sorry, man," I said slowly, brushing my hair behind my ear and quickly feeling like a stupid schoolgirl. "Just… stupid impulse."

"Oh." Matt replied, looking away. "Okay."

Awkward silence. Oh how I hated awkward silence. I was always left like I had to find something to say to break the silence, but I never had anything good to say. I grab my chocolate bar immediately, taking a bite.

_Snap._

_Clickclikclick._

Matt's still muted game's little clicking noises return as Matt buries himself in his game, still looking horribly confused and awkward, but more relaxed and in his comfort zone with his game. I sighed and climbed into my bed, nibbling chocolate.

After a while I flipped and closed my eyes. What I needed with a nap. I almost fell asleep, too, when Matt whispered, "Hey, Mells?"

"Yeah, Matty?" I whispered back, pulling the comforter closer around me.

"It's okay. I forgive you."I blinked. Somehow I had almost forgotten to make sure that Matt wasn't mad at me. Like I had just assumed that he would be, because he was… you know, Matt. He just always forgave me.

_I guess I shouldn't take him for granted, I thought absently, _closing my eyes and letting out a sigh before falling asleep.

* * *

The next morning I woke up to drown in green eyes.

No, seriously. Well, kind of seriously. Matt's face was inches from mine, centimeters from my face. I froze completely, feeling my eyes widen to the size of saucers looking at Matt. He flinched when I did, and I realized he must have been staring at me.

"Good morning," Matt greeted casually, an awkward smile on his face. I continued to stare dumfounded at him, feeling my face burn. Hopefully I hadn't talked in my sleep, because I'd dreamed some particularly.. Compromising dreams.

"Err… you were staring at me?" I ask questioningly, sitting upwards. Matt's face turns several shades darker, and I realize that must be true. For some reason the idea is pleasant, but I shove the feelings away.

"Y-yeah…" he mutters honestly, a queasy look on his face. "Just trying to figure some things out, you know?"

_Yeah, I do know. I'm trying to figure out why it is I want my best friend to do horrible, dirty things to me. _"Oh," I reply awkwardly, pushing some hair behind my ear. I'm remembering that kiss again - dammit, why had I done that? I still remembered the kiss clear as day - how soft those lips were against mine, the rush I'd felt when I closed the distance.

_You are so gay. Gay gay gay gay gay._

I winced and looked away from him. Great - the mantra in was apparently done trying to convince me I was straight. Wonderfully helpful, that was right there.

"Mells… I'm sorry, okay?"

I flinch in surprise, jolting to look up at him. He's looking at me with wide green eyes, having pulled the goggles to the top of his head. I'm immediately frozen by those emerald green eyes, capturing me there in that moment. I would have stayed there forever, but I had to reply. "Sorry? F-for what, Matt?"

Matt clenched his teeth and averted his eyes, his face dusting a light pink. I blinked in surprise, letting myself slide off the bed to sit on my knees beside him, peering at his blushing face. I didn't understand. Why was he acting so nervous? He never acted like this around me, never.

And then he spoke, and I understood.

"I'm… I was going to say I was sorry for not… returning the kiss," Matt explained slowly, face burning even redder in a shade that would make a rose jealous. "I mean, I _was _going to say that, but I mean, if you didn't mean it… then never mind." Matt shook his head, looking flustered. I didn't reply, just staring slack-jawed at him. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? The redhead studied me for a second before shaking his head again, frantically this time. "N-no, forget I said anything. I'm sorry. Just forget it. Let's just keep being friends if you want, alright? S-sorry I brought it up."But he _had _brought it up and I wasn't about to forget. I was overwhelmed, realizing slowly what he was really saying. _I'm sorry I didn't return the kiss. _Did he mean… he liked me too? Or did he just pity me? I wince at the thought and inch closer to him, studying his face carefully, frowning. "Why are you sorry you didn't return it?" I demand, a little too sternly than I meant to. Matt flinched, looking at me with a look of guilt.

"E-err… I am… I ah… err…"

I narrow my eyes. "Don't lie to me, Matty."

The redhead winced and averted his gaze, biting his lip. A few seconds go by, inching away in awkward waiting for a reply. Then Matt peeks up at me. "Because… I just mean I'm sorry for the way I reacted. I really…" he takes a breath, then gives me a weak smile, "I really didn't mind the kiss."

I paused, considering this, then give him my best cocky smile, even though I wasn't feeling cocky at all. "So… you wish you'd have returned it?" I ask suspiciously, fishing for the answer I was looking for. Matt looked at me a bit like he thinks I'm an illusion, blushing madder than before (now the roses were pretty pissed I think). I smirk - that was all the response I needed. Throwing all resolve not to be a creep and hit on my best friend I scoot closer to him, letting myself slide my hands around his shoulders and leave them there, smile inching further across my face. Matt stares at me with those big green eyes, but I only see them for a moment before I close my eyes, sliding forward to close the space between us…

Only to have the extreme embarrassment of bumping my nose into his, flinching away with huge eyes in surprise at missing the kiss. I'd closed my eyes too fast! Matt's eyes got huge with disbelief, mouth opening slightly, and we stare at each other disbelievingly. I had almost just kissed him… again. I blush before I can help myself, my "cocky attitude" melting to a fuzzy little school girl feeling.

"Err… aha…. I missed," I whisper the obvious, blushing. Matt blinks, curiously scanning my face. And then, to my surprise, his smirks.

"So you did," he whispered, and I freeze as he brushes the hair around my ear and rests his hand on my jaw line, gazing into my eyes with his dark green ones. I think my heart tried to leap out and escape in that moment, pounding in my chest. And then Matt leans forward and presses his lips to mine.

I hesitate for only a moment, feeling his lips press on mine with a hunger I hadn't expected, the hand not caressing my face going around my shoulders and pulling me closer, before returning the kiss, loosing myself in the feeling. The kiss was slow and uncertain - both of our second kisses, our first one being the barely-a-kiss yesterday - but it was wonderful. His lips were soft and perfect and tentative, his fingers tracing along my jaw to my neck while the other hand pulled me closer, rubbing my back just gently.

The kiss lasted a few marinates. I would have kissed him forever, probably, but Matt (the responsible one in this relationship) pulled away. I take a breath reluctantly, missing the feeling of kissing him already - who needs _oxygen? _I'll tell you who - lame people who don't make out with Matt. Not that you could have called that kiss making out, but…

Matt smiles at me, brushing my hair around my ear again, but this time he doest kiss me, pulling his hand away. "So does this mean I can come out of the closet?" he asks teasingly, smiling warmly at me.

I blink wondrously. In the closet. Which meant he was gay before this? Which meant I could have been kissing him all this time? _Damn it. Damn Women, Bras, Lipstick, and Miniskirts. Who needs em? Not me._

"Yep. It's about time, too," I whisper, smirking and rolling my eyes. "It's rather suffocating in there, isn't it?

"He grins. "No wonder - we were both in there together and didn't even know it."

There was a pause at the corny jokes we just made, shuffling in our seats. "So does this mean we're dating?" Matt murmured, looking uncertain. I shrug.

"Do you want it to?"

"Yes." Instant answer.

I smile. "Well good, because you have no choice," I announce, and grab him by the collar, smashing my lips into his again. _Third kiss. _Matt smirks into this kiss, not hesitating now to kiss me back. _What great progress…_

Matt breaks the kiss for only a second to take a breath before plunging back in, both of us completely overtaken by the passion in the kiss. I had to admit, it felt completely right being with him, pushing myself closer to him and feeling his hands around my waist. I was really kind of tempted to part my lips into the kiss, but the idea was a little awkward, so I just kept kissing him, moving my hands up his back to tangle in his red hair, stopping the kiss every once and a while to take a breath before returning to each other. Completely taken over by hormones and love. (We didn't know it was love then, but it was.)

So taken over, in fact, that we didn't notice the three girls peeking in our door with wide eyes of disbelief.

"Isn't that Mello?" a voice squeaked from outside the door, eyes wide. I stopped the kiss at the sound, whirling to look at the girls. There were three of them, both wide eyed at us.

The one in the middle with a blue shirt grabbed the blonde's arm. "We should go."The short-haired brunette shook her head, eyes huge. "No, no, let's stay."The blonde grinned. "Good idea, Kyndal," she whispered, then laughed, smiling at us happily. "Please continue~!" The girl with reddish-brown hair looked bewildered, but the brunette nodded her head happily.

"Huh, okay," Matt said happily, but I put my hand over his mouth with a half-hearted glare, then shot a glare of pure death at the girls.

"Get. Out."The reddish-brown haired girl blinked and grabbed the Kyndal girls and the blonde girls arms. "Okay, okay, we're gone..""Awww!" The blonde complained, dragged along with the other girl. Kyndal had a pouty look on her face as she waved goodbye. She looked kind of stupid.

"Who were those girls?" Matt whispered uncertainly.

I shrug. "Eh. Who cares?" And with that my hormones get the best of me, those insane little hormones that nobody understands nor wants to, all just hoping that they'll just go away. And they will. When you're, like, thirty. But I never got to thirty, so I wo uldn't know. My point is that hormones are annoying and crazy and insane, but hey. Insanity is how it's done around here, especially at Wammys house. In this world, it's insanity that gets you by. Here, it's this particular brand of insanity that let me continue my kiss with Matt. So I guess being hormonal isn't so bad after all.

At least, until I have to start shaving.

Shudder.

~M

_**A/N: ahahaha…. T_T this does't fit the prompt either. XD screw it…**_

_**Also, btw, this is total crap so… don't flame me ;D yes?**_

_**Oh and btw, those girls? That's suppose to be me (the blonde, Holli) Kyndal (my friend) and Laura (my other friend). The only reason I put them in there was bcuz of a dare XD' it was gonna b Linda and her friends b4, but Kyndal made me stick her somewhere, so…. There u go, kyndal. U fail at life :D**_

**_p.s. that "ViaPURE" advertisement? i didn't make it up. T_T it's an ad on skype that my friend Dove got. Yeah. Srsly._**


	13. Misfortune

**A/N: Well… folks, this doesn't fit the prompt well unless you look at the pun of it XD GET IT? HAHA? MISFORTUNE? FORTUNE COOKIE? YES? MIS**_**FORTUNE**_**? YES? …no? Oh well, just read it.**

"Can we _please _go to GameStop now?"

Mello sighed irately from his place in the dressing room, pulling the curtain open. He was in tight leather pants and a tank-top v-neck that was almost as tight with netted-sleeves layered underneath, a frown on his face. "But I'm not done shopping."

Matt, who was sitting not-so-patiently on a couch outside the dressing room, raised his eyebrows, looking Mello over. After a few minutes he smiled approvingly as Mello spun and posed dramatically, flipping his blonde hair over his shoulder and giving the redhead a wink. "Sexy, yeah?" Mello teased expectantly, swaying his hips to the left.

"Totally," Matt agreed with a laugh, nodding his head. Mello grinned.

Just then an employee glanced up from folding shirts, frowning in concern. From the nametag, his name was Jeff. Now, Jeff was not the smartest of people, as everyone told him, which was why he was working in a women's clothing store right now, but he was fairly sure the blonde strutting around trying on the new clothes line… was a man.

"Sir…" Jeff said uncertainly, looking Mello over in disbelief. Upon closer expect ion, this was most definitely a man. "That outfit is for ladies…"

Matt face palmed and muttered something about a death sentence as Mello turned, slowly, to face the employee. His face was dark, fury in his icy blue gaze, though even scarier was the homicidal, cruel smile that was spreading on his face. "Excuse me? What's your point?"

Jeff paused, startled. Now, anyone in their right mind would have turned tail and gotten their ass out of there. But you must understand that Jeff was what you would call "socially retarded." He was raised on a farm in Oklahoma, and he had no experience with this kind of encounter before. So instead of turning and minding his own business, he replied, "So, you are a man, yes?"

Mello glared. "Yes."

Matt covered his face, shaking his head, as Jeff continued, more hastily now, "So, that is the women's line. This is an all women's store. If you are a man, you can't just go around--"

Mello suddenly slammed his fist down on a shelf, screeching loud enough to startle a woman coming into the store into spilling her diet soda all over the place, "THIS MAN IS BEING DISCRIMITORY, THESE PANTS ARE FREE!" Matt sighed and tried to hide himself behind a magazine - this always happened, always always…

After about fifteen minutes of bickering with Jeff, threatening lawsuits with the manager, and scaring everyone in the store half to death, the pair left the store with a free pair of pants and another name on Mello's hit-list. Jeff Materney, god save you…

"Okay, _now _we go to GameStop?" Matt asked hopefully, grabbing Mello's hand with a puppy-grin. The blonde rolled his eyes.

"Fine, fine…" he allowed, earning a victory dance from Matt. "But make it snappy," he reminded him. Finishing his dorky - but adorable - victory dance the redhead took off into the store, excitement practically radiating off of him. Mello had to laugh. _Instant happy Matt, just add GameStop, _he thought whimsically.

He had no desire to follow the redhead into the gamer-filled "nerd hell" as he called it, because he wasn't a gamer and Matt would only ignore him the entire time anyway. So instead he turned and leaned to rest his weight on one foot, hands resting on his hips as he surveyed the mall.

It was a cheap, run down place, but it was close by and had good stores. There was a giggling, chattering mass of girls outside Hollister; a punky looking trio of teens was window-shopping Hot Topic; a young business-type looking woman was talking on her cell while she walked, almost running into a slightly overweight man with a pretzel; a young couple was making out beside the escalator, earning a glare from a middle aged soccer-mom on her way down; an elderly couple was headed for Macys looking quite happy with each other. Average mall crowd. _How boring. Now all that's missing is obnoxious guys and this picture is complete._

"Hey, faggot!"

_Oh, what do you know. _

The blonde sighed and closed his eyes, immediately infuriated by the word. He hated hated hated that word, and he was _so _done with the bullshit. He'd had enough of the problem at Wammy's alone, and now at the MALL? No. Mello whirled, glaring and ready to beat the living shit out of whoever was behind him, and found a semi-attractive group of guys with hideous clothes standing behind him. The one that had yelled had pants that rode down too low and showed his boxers at an obnoxious degree, something Mello had always detested.

"Nice shirt, flamer," the second boy, who had a typical-boy Abercrombie outfit and was sprinkled with acne sneered. Mello frowned at the lack of creativity of the comment, glancing down at his outfit. He had a tight blue, almost black shirt that stopped a little above the waist, a faded logo on the front, along with the usual leather pants. Nothing really fantastically gay about the outfit, really, he'd worn worse… puzzled by their concern and thoroughly pissed at them for bothering him for no reason, he looked back up.

"Where'd you get it," baggy-pants asked sarcastically, obviously trying to provoke him, "Limited Too?"

Mello glared at them, hands still on his hips. "No, dickwad, I got it at Express," he shot back honestly, which earned a laugh from the three. The blonde sighed, exasperated. He wasn't really in the mood for a fight, especially not three-to-one, and especially not while he was out with his favorite redhead. He glanced around for Matt, hoping to ditch the needless annoyance. He could take them, sure, but he'd rather not get kicked out of the mall again…

"Lookin' for your boyfriend, fag-boy?" baggy-pants sneered (his guess was actually pretty accurate, Mello couldn't help but notice). The third boy looked a bit hesitant to start a fight, fidgeting - he was light-haired and looked smaller than the other two, like he might be just along for the ride rather than actually on the team. _I'll go easy on you, then_, Mello thought pleasantly, even with his fury boiling. "Come on, fag, talk to us! You're a fag, aren't you? Tell us, gay-boy, are you a fag?"

"Actually, I _am _a homosexual," Mello said brightly, in his best fake-nice voice, which shut the boy up. The blonde waltzed forward, smirking as he leaned forward to glare into the boys gray-brown eyes. "I'd sure appreciate it," his voice had grown dark and deadly, like his face, "If you'd stop saying that nasty word and say 'gay' instead, in order to be socially correct and not get your face punched in."

Baggy-pants was frozen by Mello's furious gaze, but the acne-boy who Mello decided at that moment was officially named Sprinkles spoke up, "We'll call you whatever we want, girly boy!"

_Girly boy? Girly boy!?_

Mello kicked him. Hard. As in combat-boot connection + pissed Mello = Sprinkles cannot have children kind of kick. The brawl was _on._

Meanwhile, totally oblivious to the fight that had broken out outside the store, a certain redhead was in line to purchase the latest Resident Evil game. He'd recently started playing the series and had finished Umbrella Chronicles, so he was moving on to Darkside though he wasn't really sure he was playing them in order. There was his really old woman trying to convince the man at the counter that there was definitely a game called "Astro Mouse" even though there definitely wasn't. The cashier guy looked freaked out, threatening to call the manager if the old woman didn't leave him alone.

_Dear god, woman…_ Matt thought with irritation, tapping his foot with irritation. _Zelda save you, if your that stupid…_

"HOLY CRAP!" "That blonde is fucking strong!"

"MALL FIGHT!"

Matt froze. _Oh no. Please no. Don't let it be my blonde. Please, dear god, no…_ he prayed inwardly, but to no such luck. Outside the store was indeed Mello brawling and punching a baggy-panted guy, screeching in anger and causing a commotion, and there was an acne-ridden guy hunched over and holding his crotch on the ground. _Of course._

Matt dropped the game and hurried outside to help. Sure, he was irritated, but this was just protocol - it was _Mello. _He was a public menace of a boyfriend, but hey… at least things never got boring.

"I am going to kill you, you homophobic fuck, and then you are going to go to the fiery wraths of hel-- oh!" Mello paused half threat, noticing Matt half-way through slugging a very frightened Baggy-pants, who was currently pinned down, in the face. The blonde smiled brightly at Matt. "Hi, Matty!"

"Uhh.. Mells…" Matt began, glancing worriedly at the acne-ridden boy rolling on the floor. "What happened..?""Oh your left, sweetheart!" Mello announced cheerfully, cutting him off. Automatically Matt dodged to the right on command, narrowly missing a blow aimed at his head by a light-haired boy in a white Hollister hoodie. "Just teaching some jackasses a lesson!"

"Get off of me, you homo!!" the one under Mello cried, trying to shove the blonde away, which earned him a punch in the jaw. The redhead was too busy shoving Hollister boy and booting him in the ass on his way down to reply.

A crowd was gathered around, several of which were cheering, most of the cheering were cheering for Mello, who they were currently calling "Blondie."

"Yeah, Blondie! WOO!"

"How's that feel, Kevin! Getin' beat up by Blondie! AHA!"

Mello ate up every word of it, pulling Baggy-pants hair with satisfaction. Hollister had jumped to his feet, face burning with embarrassment, but he didn't go after Matt again. Instead he hurried over to Sprinkles, who was still wailing, pulling him to his feet.

"Hey, Mells, come on," Matt said casually, in a tone most would say 'I have math homework to do' or something boring, "We need to ditch before the mall cops show." Mello nodded, a bit reluctantly, and hopped off the other boy. The boy scrambled to his feet, but made no move to attack the blonde again. "Let's go, Mells," Matt said again.

Mello huffed and, with a dramatic bow to the gathered crowd along with a flash of a smile - which caused an eruption of cheers from the crowd, a couple of girls swooned (and a few guys probably), and Matt rolled his eyes. Finishing his bow Mello spun on his heel and grabbed Matt's sleeve, hurrying away from the scene.

Once they were safely away from the scene (probably) they slowed down, approaching the food court. Mello grinned at Matt, eyes sparkling with adrenaline. "That was _awesome_."

"AWESOME?" Matt cried, but he was grinning. "Why in the world did you even start a fight in the middle of a mall, anyway?"Mello shrugged, brushing his hair over his ear. "Oh, they were being dickheads," he explained. "You know. Phobes?" Matt sighed and shook his head - he should have known.

The blonde searched around the food court with thoughtful eyes, scanning the various unhealthy options for food. "Hum… you want Chinese food?"

"You know it!"

The food was good. Matt was shoveling some sort of noodles into his mouth hungrily - he loved, loved, _loved _Chinese food. A lot. Mello rolled his eyes and ate another piece of sushi tentatively. He wasn't a big eater unless the food was chocolate, but he did enjoy sushi every now and again.

"Mmm… the only good mall food is Chinese mall food," Matt proclaimed, eating at the last few bites of his noodles and getting droplets of the sauce on his cheek.

"Hmmm…" Mello mumbled, swallowing his bite of sushi. Without much warning to Matt he leaned forward over the table, and Matt's eyebrows shot up in surprise when Mello kissed his cheek, licking the sauce that had made it's way there. "I _do _love Chinese food."

Matt rolled his eyes, blushing just barely as Mello pulled away, knowing how people were now staring at them. "Cheeky today, are we?" Matt mused teasingly, "Since when is PDA on your to-do list?" Mello just shrugged again, popping another piece of sushi into his mouth.

After a while Mello was done with his food as well and had dug through the bag to find two fortune cookies in the bottom.

"Okay, you open yours first," Mello commanded, tossing the pre-packaged cookie into Matt's hands. "Read it aloud, too." Matt obeyed, knowing this was Mello's favorite part, and opened the little plastic bag with a pop. He cracked the little cookie in two carefully to expose the white slip of paper that held his fortune.

"Okay…" Matt began, clearing his throat before reading aloud, "Expect the unexpected with your love life." The redhead frowned after reading, shaking his head, "Well anyone could have told me THAT - I'm dating a lunatic!"

Mello scoffed and slapped his arm, but he didn't deny it. "So…" he said slowly, then waggled his eyebrows, "Do you think it means sex or the actual lovey-dovey shit we do? Because if it means sex, we can always break out the handcuffs again…"

Matt rolled his eyes, remembering when Mello had brought those home. He didn't know why he had or where he had gotten them, either. They were real, too, not those frilly fuzzy ones that Mello could bust out of on a whim anyway, but the real policeman metal ones. Matt had refused to chain Mello to the bed, though, saying it was too awkward (though he'd probably agree to it now). This had turned out to be a terrible move, because _he _had ended up chained to the bed instead.

Scary experience.

Enjoyable, but scary.

"Okay, you are officially the horniest person on earth," Matt said, shaking his head and adjusting his goggles, "Really, who brings up sex over Chinese food?"

"Well, you're the one screwing me, Matty…" Mello reminded him.

"..touché."

Mello grinned and broke his own cookie in half, retrieving his fortune and holding it out in front of his face as he spoke loudly, "Expect to have hot, rough se with a redhead in the near future."

Matt narrowed his eyes and snatched the fortune away from him, throwing it to the table./ "Mello," he said accusingly, shaking his head. Mello snickered, and despite himself Matt had to grin too.

"Okay, okay…" Mello sighed, shaking his head. "Wouldn't that be a great cookie, though?" Matt raised an apprehensive eyebrow, and Mello sighed, reading it for real this time. "Something good will happen in your near future. Remember to…. Stretch…" Matt frowned but Mello was surprised too, shaking his head in disbelief as a grin spread on his face. "I _swear to god _that's what it says!"

Matt blinked in disbelief and snatched the fortune away from Mello. Sure enough, that's what it said. "Even your _fortunes _sound perverted!" he cried, disbelieving. Mello crackled a laugh, clapping his hands approvingly. "Hey, and your lucky number's three," he noted randomly.

"Oh my god… YOUR THREE! YOU'RE NUMBER THREE!!" Mello cried, causing Matt to choke on a piece of fortune cookie in surprise. Mello beamed, clapping his hands and waggling his eyebrows. "Guess I'm getting 'lucky' with you, Matty!"

"Ha ha ha," Matt said sarcastically, but then kissed Mello on the nose, smiling warmly at him. "You don't need luck, Mells; I'd happily fuck you in the Old Navy dressing room right now and all you'd have to do is say please."

Mello blinked, then smirked. "I know."

"I'm sure," Matt said, rolling his eyes and leaning back into his chair. Mello grinned at him, eating his fortune cookie slowly and deliberately, with a little _snap _as he took each bite. Matt paused half way through his own cookie, blinking. Mello was staring at him, blue eyes smoldering as if he were a piece of Godiva chocolate. Matt swallowed, raising an eyebrow. "What…?"

* * *

Marcy Chast was born for showbiz. She had big dreams and an ego to match, confident and sassy with long brown hair and big blue eyes. Ah, yes. Showbiz. A star. That was the dream.

So why, she couldn't help but wonder, was she working at Old Navy? Marcy groaned, checking the clock desperately. It was almost closing time - they'd be locking up soon, and then she could leave finally. There was barely anyone in the store at all at this hour.

"Um… excuse me, miss?"

Marcy sighed and looked lazily up at the woman standing above her. The woman's look simply screamed "soccer mom in need of coffee," looking distressed and holding hands with a bitchy-looking little girl with crooked pigtails. She was trying to smile at Marcy, but was failing and it turned out to be a grimace.

"Yes…?" Marcy asked slowly, a bit annoyed by the look on the woman's face as well as the way her little girl was messing up a stack of shirts she'd just folded a few minutes ago. "How may I help you?" she asked with strangled politeness.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but there's weird sounds from the male dressing room.." the woman explained worriedly. Marcy sighed, exasperated - of course. Weird sounds. Of course _she _was the one who was sent off to inspect "weird sounds." With an exaggerated sigh Marcy got to her feet and clacked her high-heeled strut towards the dressing room, not bothering to worry that it was the male's since she'd done this a million times at least, flinging open the door. Nobody was inside at first glance, at least in the lobby part - not many guys came here, especially not this close to closing time - so at first s he thought the woman was just being an idiot.

Then she heard it.

"Nhhnnn…. Mmm…" Shuffling and mumbling sounds were coming from the back of the room, last dressing room. Raising a dramatic, confused eyebrow, Marcy stalked forward to stand in front of the door.

"AaAhhh… Mattyy…" Marcy paused, frowning and staring at the door. Was someone DYING or something in there? Biting her lip, her hands hovered over the door handle. But no - she must not be afraid. She was a woman - a young, confident woman who would be among the ranks of the stars someday. She must have no fear. And so she opened the door.

_Oh. God._

What she found, as you might have thought, was two very naked people. At first glance a girl and a guy - no, both guys. Definitely both guys. Marcy froze in the doorway, staring wide eyed. They'd idn't notice her at first, the blonde pressed back against the mirror, the larger of the two, a redhead, pressed against him in an embrace, lips smashed together. They were both very, very naked.

Then the blonde spotted her over the redheads shoulder, startling in surprise. Marcy expected a scream or at least embarrassment, but Mello only blushed and shot her a grin. Marcy returned it without thinking, then froze, turning and fleeing immediately. Her face was burning as she slammed the door shut.

"What was that…?" A voice, probably the redhead. Concern. A giggle. The blonde, probably. "Ahhh… less talk, more fucking, Jeevas!"

Marcy raced out of the dressing room, straightening her outfit and trying quite desperately to get the image of the two out of her head. _Never gain am I going in there, never ever again… _she promised herself, shivering.

"Did you find the problem?" the soccer mom asked, waiting outside for her. Marcy winced - no way in hell was she going to tell her the truth. She could still hear the moans very faintly from where she stood, if you listened for them. Marcy shivered again. No, never again.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did," Marcy muttered, "I found the problem."

The woman blinked, then pried, "Well?" Marcy winced, shaking her head.

"Testosterone. The problem is always testosterone," Marcy whispered darkly. The woman made a face of confusion like she was going to pry more, but Marcy ignored her, grabbing her Gucci bag and marching dramatically out of the store, flipping her brunette hair over her shoulder. She was done with this crazy place. _Marcy Hills has left the building! _She imagined someone announcing, then shuddered without meaning to, glancing over her shoulder at the store one last time.

She had a feeling that those two wouldn't be leaving the building anytime soon…

**A/N: I WARNED YOU XD**

**Mello has no shame XDD you know it's true. **

**Okay well, just FYI to those who care, I'm gonna be in Jamaica soon! That means no updates ****L I'll be writing on paper some, but I won't be actually putting it on for a while D: that means a few weeks. Sorry guys! XD maybe I'll have some hot beach stories for you when I return though! :D**

**p.s. i rly did get a fortune that said that, once. O__O' so yeah XD**


	14. Smile

I've had a lot of people ask me why I put up with Mello. It's not an unusual question, really - Mello's what you'd call a public menace. A maniac of sorts. Hell, even before he got involved with Mafia shit he was crazy - a bipolar, psycho, chocolate-addicted maniac with an inferiority-complex. Not exactly the kind of person you'd want to hang out with, at first glance. Mostly because at first glance, if he sees you looking, he'll either smirk at you or, if he see's that your startled or disgusted by his strange, feminine appearance, he'll punch your face in. First glance. Yeah.

The boy can read minds, though. He knows by that glance what you think of him, how threatened you are by him, and if you can tell he's gay. All in one glace he can tell if he's better than you and if you want to have sex with him or not. Yeah, I know, pretty crazy. Well, that's an exaggeration, or at least that third one anyway. That branch of his "mind reading" didn't show up until he was older. But none the less, he could tell once he got into the "sex" era of life.

Which was bit sooner than most people, I might add.

This particular part of him made a lot of people wonder if maybe I was just in it for the sex. It was a partially reasonable assumption - Mello was kind of… whore-ish. At glance, I mean, not his personality or anything. Because he really wasn't - sure, he flirted around a lot and would shoot suggestive smiles at people, but he never meant anything by it and he'd never cheat on me or anything. And anyway, I wasn't in it for the sex anyway (even though I did quite enjoy the sex). That wasn't the reason at all. I loved Mello for him, not just his body.

Even if he was a total maniac.

Some people think I'm foolish to stay in a relationship like the one I'm in with him. Maybe they're right. I'm kind of a "puppy" figure - I do whatever he says without question nor concern, not even a consideration as to "why" or "can't you do this yourself" because I _want _to do it for him. It makes me happy doing whatever he wants. People think it's sort of weird, too, that I'm that willing to do anything he wants. They say I shouldn't let him control me so much.

He's also what you'd call… physical with me. I don't mean sex, either, I meant full-on violence. I know what you're going to say, that I should break up with him and end it before it gets worse. Maybe you're right, too. He'll do crazy shit like throw shoes at me or shove me or whatever. He gets angry. I get it, though. I understand him. He never really hurts me - never enough to actually wound me.

Actually, that's not true. He has hurt me enough to actually wound me - he threw something at me when we were twelve. A video game. I'd been playing it a ton, about a week straight actually, since it was spring break. He grabbed it out of my hands after bugging me for hours and demanded I pay attention to him. I really was being kind of selfish - we had agreed to spend the break together after all - but I begged and pleaded for my game back.

Well, let's just say I got it back. Right smack into my face. It broke my nose.

I would have been angry with him, but I didn't. I howled in pain and fell to the ground, moaning and my nose bleeding. And I remember Mello screamed, like a little girl, and threw me into an embrace and started crying and begging for forgiveness, and you know what? I started laughing. It hurt like all the fiery wraths of hell, but I was laughing my brains out. Because the look on Mello's face was so priceless.

We spent the rest of spring break together, and Roger frowned at us the entire time. Paranoid old man, he is.

So I guess you could call him abusive. But it's not like he was raping me or any crazy shit - you can't really be having "forced sex" when I'm the one on top, now can you? No, you can't. And it's not like he did nothing for me. He did. He sheltered me, he cared for me, he was my friend. He didn't try and isolate me from other people - in fact, he encouraged me to get out of the house when he was really busy, told me I should get friends other than him all the time. He always said he wasn't good enough. Always told me that I should leave him and find someone better, because he was a devil, a monster, and he wasn't good enough for me. I would always laugh and scold him and tell him he was being stupid - he was the only one I could love.

It was true. I'm not a social person. I can't really open up to anyone but Mello. I mean, sure, I had friends - Linda, that girl who worked with me at GameStop (Ashley?), and Near, if he even counted. But nobody ever matched up to Mello. Nobody ever came close. And anyway, I liked staying home - even if Mello didn't have time to spare me a glance because of studying or, in later years, the Kira case, I loved being in the same room with him. Playing my video games and pausing to stare at him every so often. It was a stalkerish thing to do, kind of, but I loved watching him. The way he ate his chocolate with the little snaps, almost violently, the way his eyebrows scrunched together when he got confused, and then his face would relax when he understood and would scribble whatever he was writing down really furiously and fast. He had really messy handwriting - I'm fairly sure nobody can read it but him and me. He never types anything, ever - he always gives me the drafts and tells me to type it up. He's horrible with computers - if he's dumb with anything, that would be it. He could only use it for two things - email and porn. And he wasn't even good with _that. _Sure, he could learn to do it if he wanted to, he's not completely retarded, but he never did. He always had me for that.

I never tried to make him learn. He made me feel special. I was his computer person. I was his geek. It was nothing special, really, nothing particularly unique or romantic. But I was his geek. His redheaded geek with the goggles who did his computer stuff. I loved it.

I was also his sex toy. Yeah, I know. Sex toy. I said it and labeled myself as it. It's only acceptable because it's true, even if it does hurt my male pride. How you can be a sex toy and still the seme, well, I'll let you guess on that one. He gets sex whenever he wants it, pretty much, however he wants it. Sure, I'll toy with him sometimes, but if he wants it he'll get it, even if I'm extremely pissed at him or tired out of my mind. It's pretty damn consensual though - I know I said I don't love him just for his body ( I don't. I mean, hell, he blew himself up, if I wanted him just for his looks I'd be gone. Not that the scars not sexy, because it is, but… I'm rambling again. Ha.) but the sex _was _good, and I loved it. It was a confirmation of love. I was his, he was mine. Consensual.

Still, even after I explain all that, people don't understand it. Why do you love him, they ask. Why do you love a man who abuses you, uses you, coops you up in the house, gets involved with dangerous missions and mafia cases? Why?

People always ask that. They ask that all the time. They tell me I could do so much better. I could do better than some cruel, temperamental, icy, chocolate-addicted blonde who throws tantrums and is basically a public menace.

Why do I stay with Mello?

It's probably his smile.

A smile is something most people take for granted. Which is actually pretty understandable - most people smile on a regular basis. Good for them. That's a natural, human thing to do, to want to smile all the time. I know I do. I'm the kind of person who wears his heart on his sleeve, always tries to make people understand my feelings. It's not hard - I'm a pretty simple person. Sure, I'm kind of shy about it, but the people I'm close to always know how I'm feeling.

Not all smiles should be taken for granted, though.

Mello's smile, for example. It's rare. Sure, his lips turn up in some fake, blank, I-smile-because-I'm-expected-to smile. Or the smirk that says 'I'm going to kick your ass' or 'I'm better than you and I know it.' Or that forced smile he'll give you when you're trying to cheer him up and it's not working. Those smiles aren't the ones I'm talking about. I'm talking about that rare smile, that true smile, the big, warm smile. The one that spreads across his face and makes his perfect, angelic face glow more than it usually does, and shines in his big blue eyes, too. His whole face lights up and you can see that innocence that's still alive in the back of his heart.

That's a rare smile.

That's a special smile.

That's why I stay with him.

That smile is the reason. It's the proof he's still human, in a way. Proof that he returns all the love I have for him. I do love him, too - every inch of him, every quirk, every flaw, every scar, every bruise. I love every minute of him, even the abuse. Even the yelling. Even the tantrums. Because I know those fade. And I know then the tears come and Mello will start begging and sobbing and loving me all over again. I know that once we get home he'll be the boy I fell in love with. When we get home from whatever mission we're on or whatever shoot-out we're called to or whatever bullshit maf-job we're sent out to do, he'll still be him.

He'll still be Mihael Kheel. Not Mello, the temperamental, cruel, murderous, heartless mafia boss who thinks of nothing but himself, the mask that he wears to others to get his way. That's a part of him, but not the full. The part others don't see, the part that smiles real, true smiles, the part that jokes and laughs. The part that runs and plays and has tickle fights. The part that kisses passionately and embraces with love. The one that tucks me in at night when I'm sick or have had a long night. The part that crawls under the covers during a storm and buries his face in my shirt. The part that loves me more than anything.

That's why I stay.

I stay for that smile.

I stay for Mihael Kheel.

**A/N: WOOF. JEASUS THIS IS A DRABBLE. I like it, though :D I love Matt, he's so cheesy and loving XD this came to me in Health class when we were talking about abusive relationships and shit. And the whole time I was thinking "holy fuck, that sounds like Mello!" XDD Except it can't fully be abuse, can it? I mean, Matt IS the seme… *eyebrow waggle***

**Anyway, I wish you much love, prosperity, and pocky!!Glomps,**

**Holli**

**p.s. still going to Jamaica soon. Don't think that this update or any others means I'll be updating a lot, cuz… I wont. Cuz I'm going on an ISLAND, SUKKAAZZ!! XD kk bye for real! LUV YA!**


	15. Silence

**It was a strange thing, that night at Wammys house - the night that L was announced dead. Strange especially to Roger, who was used to chaos and excitement around Wammy's, used to a loudness he could barely stand. Strange not just because L was gone, but because… it was so quiet.**

**There were no squeals and screams of children running though the halls. No one was in the lunch room, nor the yard, nor the commons - all in silent agreement. It was such an eerie silence that, if you walked in, you would wonder where everyone had gone, where the usual Wammy's sights had gone. Linda wasn't jabbering away with anyone. Mello wasn't fighting and yelling, the detention room left empty. Matt, the faithful partner, wasn't walking around with his game, following the blonde everywhere. Near wasn't sitting in the library as he usually did, a puzzled left half done, abandoned on the floor. Nobody was around. No chaos. No giggling. No fighting. No screams or shouts. Nothing to tell you of the tragedy that shook these grounds, save for the eerie feeling there.**

**Silent.**

**At first, you might think the orphanage was empty. But the man knew better, and as Roger cautiously walked the halls, he heard them. The faint mourning noises of the orphans. The whimpers and quiet sobs behind doors. **

**If you listened, you could hear crying in Linda's room, a mournful accompaniment of whimpers and sniffles. Continue onwards, and you could hear the muffled, angry wails from Mello's room, accompanied by the desperate, shaky words of attempted comfort from his roommate. If you listened really hard at the next room, really strained for it, you might notice the tap, tap, tap of Near, patting his fingers on a puzzle box, for unable to bring himself to put it together.**

**Even the coldest of the cold, the angriest of the angry, the most carefree of the carefree were effected. Of course they were - they were children. Despite their IQ's, despite some of their efforts to suppress the thoughts, they had feelings. They had lost their mentor, their hero figure, their goal - the one they were suppose to look to for everything had died. Each of them orphaned all over again by a cruel twist of fate.**

**Roger was not the biggest fan of the children. He wasn't ashamed of that, really, until that day - he enjoyed **_**some **_**children, sure, but the Wammy's kids were the type that drove him nuts. They were all so smart, clever, analyzing, and mercilessly so. To the extent that they made him feel like a fool on a regular basis, and they did it on propose, he was sure. Some children, in particular, such as Mello - a menace and a troublemaker - Near - high maintenance, analyzing, know it all - Matt - troublemaker's assistant, lazy and sarcastic - and several other children, that drove Roger bonkers.**

**That day, he felt pity and compassion for every last one of them. From the nearly-worshippers of L to the few that disliked him, they were all in bad condition - some had resented him, some had loved him, some had been confused by him. None at Wammy's wished him dead.**

**And Watari. He was dead, too. He had been the founder, a father figure to everyone here. A savior to many. He had no enemies at Wammy's house. Though a flawed man, he was only always trying for the good, and he loved each child dearly. Cared for each of them without exception, and always felt a horrible sorrow when any of the children 'failed.' Such as when B went crazy and turned to crime, or when A committed suicide, for example. If he had survived, he would have sorrowed for L, too.**

**But that was never to be. Watari was gone.**

**Roger shook his head again, sighing sadly. As I said before, he disliked children in general, so he didn't really quite understand Watari's love for them.**

_**I didn't ever wish this on anyone, though, **_**Roger thought regretfully as he returned to his office. For once, it was empty, save for a scattered puzzle left behind by Near on the floor. **

**He wondered, as he sat down in his office chair, if L would have ever succeeded. Had he survived, would he have been able to convince Mello and Near to work together? Inspire Matt to start working harder? Had he been around, would Mello still be leaving today?**

**Watari was gone, too. Maybe, even if L had died, Watari would have been able to do it - L had been like his son, but he could have pulled through. He could have taken care of the children, maybe convinced the troublesome three at the top…**

**Not Roger. He didn't have the strength to conquer these children. He had will enough to care for them, shelter them, discipline them, maybe. But he wasn't strong enough to control the fire that dwelled inside of each of them, to even attempt to understand it. He could only feed the fire and tend to it, hope that it wouldn't burn the innocent - or him, for that matter - before it ran out of fuel.**

**The subdued silence emphasized every noise Roger made, spooking the man a bit. He'd grown accustomed to the racing sounds of footsteps, the laughing, screaming, and chattering of the children through the thin orphanage walls. Now, all he heard was the creaking of his chair as he sat down on it and his own regretful thoughts.**

_**There is nothing I can do now. All I can do is wait for the end. All I can do is wait, **_**Roger thought sullenly, closing his eyes and leaning back into his chair with a long, shuddering sigh that sounded much louder to him than it actually was in the quiet of his office. **_**Yes. Just wait. Wait and hope… that nobody else has to die.**_

**But even as the thought was retreating into the silence and the wind whispered across the yard outside the office window, Roger knew.**

**His hope would not be granted. The silence would be gone tomorrow, and the future would be stained with bloodlust - and thus was the life of L successors. **_**There is nothing I can do, now. Wait. Just wait… for the end of everything. **_

**And so the tired man, feeling older than he ever had, relaxed back into his chair, closing his eyes and sighing, letting himself relax into the bittersweet silence of the night.**

**A/N: Wrote this in classes. Mostly in study hall. I was bored, ok? XD So yeah. Here's an update on these 100 themes things. Needed a break from Heartburn, so… yeah. XD**


	16. Questioning

**A/N: This is too freakin short. XD I wrote it in study hall on Monday and found it again, and it just so happened to fit the prompt, so… yeah. .w. enjoy I guess?**

"How do we know…?"

Matt blinked drowsily out of his half-slumber, arm still wrapped tightly round the blonde beside him. He'd almost drifted off completely, feeling completely content and rather wistful after the previous hours he had been spending with his lover.

He tilted his head to look down at the boy beside him in a lazy fashion, confused by the vague question and slightly bemused that he hadn't immediately fallen asleep like he usually did. The blonde was looking up at him with expectant, smothering blue eyes, a million curiosities and worries swimming through their depths.

"Know what, Mells?" Matt asked slowly, shifting to get a better look at his partner, not releasing his grip on him as he did.

Mello was blushing a little, tracing his fingertips on Matt's bare chest, refusing to make eye-contact with the redhead as he whispered, his tone kind of sleepy despite it's worry. "How do we know that we're in love..? How can we know for sure?"

The redhead blinked in surprise, his arms tightening instinctively with a certain protectiveness around Mello's waist, his semi-possessive side kicking in in the back of his mind. "What… what do you _mean _Mells…?" Matt asked in a stricken tone, fear and confusion shoving him violently out of his drowsy, sleepy mood. Was the blonde having doubt? Why _now_?

Mello shook his head frantically, seeming to almost read the other boy's thoughts as he moved forward urgently, brushing his hands in a delicate fashion along Matt's jaw line. "No, no, no, Matty… I'm sorry…" Mello whispered quickly, swallowing. "It was just a stupid thought that came into my mind, okay…?"

Matt looked down at the other with uncertainty, but the blonde looked honestly apologetic. He couldn't stay mad at Mello, anyway - it was impossible for the redhead to hold a grudge against the blonde, even if he _had _been doubting or putting him out of his mood on propose. He loved him too much for his own good.

"I was just laying here… thinking. Like…" Mello paused, looking a little uncertain as he searched for words to put his thoughts to. He wasn't exactly the best with talking about his feelings, much less his feelings about Matt. The redhead squeezed his shoulder, urging him silently to continue, and so he did.

"I was just thinking, like a corny idiot, how much I… loved you. And then… I was just thinking about how millions of people have probably said that, you know? And most relationships don't work out, and marriages always seem to end in divorce, and…" Mello shook his head, composing himself. He looked rather frantic and self-hating at this point, continuing with haste, "How do we know? How could we know that tomorrow we won't wake up and not have the same feelings anymore? What if we think this is true love now, but then we feel something stronger for… someone else?"

Matt felt a wave of horror accompanied by slight nausea go through him at the thought, imagining with a stroke of fear the unthinkable image - Mello with someone else… _no._

Mello shook his head helplessly, feeling stupid for even voicing his pointless thoughts and burying his face in Matt's shoulder, trying to relax both himself and the tense redhead beside him with the cuddling motion. It was partially lost on Matt, though - he was absorbed in his own frantic thoughts.

_How do we know…?_

It hurt Matt to admit it, but there was only one truthful answer he could give him.

"We… don't," Matt whispered quietly. Mello jolted slightly, looking up at his lover in surprise. The redhead hugged the blonde tighter though, trapping him in his arms and letting out a shaky sigh. "We don't know that, Mello. We can't."

Mello shivered, letting out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding; suddenly feeling extremely clingy himself, he nuzzled closer to the redhead. _Who else would I ever want to be with…? _he thought pathetically, the thought rather shamelessly mortifying to him. Matt was his rock. His constant. His follower. His other half. His _always. _He couldn't imagine life without the other.

"But I won't leave you, Mells," Matt murmured, as if reading his thoughts. Placing a gentle kiss on the top of his head, he added quietly, "You don't ever have to think that way - I won't leave unless you want me to."

Mello shook his head quickly, peeking up at the boy above him and meeting his eyes, his icy blue ones meeting the emerald-green wonders above him steadily as he muttered, "I don't want you to…"

Matt smiled.

"Good," he replied, brushing Mello's hair out of his face gently, a smirk finding it's way onto his lips, revealing his dimples again. "Because I'd only chase after you again until you took me back.""Bastard," Mello mumbled half-heartedly, but secretly he was kind of touched.

Matt's smirk only widened at the empty jab. "I love you, too, Mells," Matt replied genuinely, green eyes flickering with affection and teasing. The blonde scowled at him, but it faltered helplessly into a pout. And it was this pout that was quickly kissed off his lips, gently stolen away by Matt's kiss.

And Mello returned it gratefully, letting one last slightly sappy thought float through his mind before giving into the mutual passion, lust, and affection between them.

_If this isn't love, then love is overrated. This is more than good enough for me._

**A/N: I TOLD YOU IT WAS SHORT! XD This took, like, 3.2 seconds to spell-check, too. ^^; speaking of spell-check, my fabulous wife Rainfire will be doing my spell-check for me for the story Heartburn because my grammar sucks on there!YAY!Love you all to donuts… wait… what the hell?**

**Whatever.**

**~Holli**

**p.s. about the "wife" thing, no, I am not a lesbian and rainfire is not really my wife nor my girlfriend or anything XD it's just an inside joke. If you really want to know, you could message me about it I guess, but it's just sort of a "had to be there" thing that's lasted for months XD**


	17. Blood

A had never been one to be queasy around blood. In fact, he was a bit fascinated with it. Especially today, when surfing the web. See, A was suppose to be studying for a project like all the other children in the house - it was what everyone was doing as far as he knew, not even excluding B, who was for once studying in complete silence. But A didn't want to study - in his search for a good topic, he'd stumbled upon something pertaining to blood, a particular something that seemed morbidly appealing.

The boy leaned forward to peer closer at the laptop screen, interest clear in his bright gray-blue eyes even as his messy dark-gray hair fell across his face, the light from the laptop screen illuminating his face. The only lights in the two first successors, Alternate and Backup, otherwise known as A and B, were from B's lamp (used for homework) and the laptop screen. They both mutually enjoyed the dark, especially A, who preferred staying in the shadows even in public places.

"What are you doing, A?" the L-mirror asked from across the room, licking jam off of his fingertips from the jar that sat beside his homework. At first A didn't reply, staring at the screen for a few more moments before looking back at B, meeting his red eyes as he always did, and Beyond staring at the place just above his head before returning the gaze. A knew why he did that, and never questioned it aloud… though, admittedly, it scared him a bit.

"Just reading some things I found online," the gray-haired boy replied quietly. Everything A did was quiet, really - he walked nearly silent, his voice came in a whisper, he slept silently and barely shifted at all. But B always heard him.

"About what would that be?" B pried, getting up from his position. He was hunched a bit like L even when he stood, but really he _could _stand up straight perfectly fine and did often, as he was doing now as he made his way over to his roommate. A shrugged, suddenly feeling a tiny bit self conscious under the constantly-analyzing gaze of the other boy, but all the same rolled his chair to the side to allow B a better look at the screen.

B had a way with reading things in mere seconds, like a scanner, and A couldn't help but watch his eyes as they simply scanned over the article - you could practically see the gears turning in their depths.

"Blood bonding?" B asked after a moment of scanning, glancing down at the smaller boy beside him with surprise. A shrugged his slim shoulders, returning the gaze without any hesitation. Most people would be a little creeped out by B - he was an odd boy, really, and though A didn't know this, a murderer in later years. But of course, they were only fourteen at this time - how could they know of this? Even if A did, it's doubtful he would have stopped being B's friend regardless.

"Yeah, blood bonding," A replied in his whisper of a voice, looking back to the screen. He was a fast reader too, but he'd stayed on this article for a long while, reading and rereading it. "You know, like…""Yeah I know what it is," B interrupted, as he did often, tilting his head to the side as if to get another angle of the slight gray-haired boy below him. "But why are you so interested in the topic all of a sudden?"

A shrugged again, a bit embarrassed, and pulled himself into a position where he was hugging his legs. He, unlike a lot of the first Wammy's children, didn't sit in the "L position," finding it overkill (though he'd never tell B that, since he was one of the ones who did). "I don't know…""That is a lie," B told him bluntly, without a hint of doubt in his voice, turning to sit on the edge of the desk and giving the quiet boy beside him a quizzical look. "Tell me why, Alternate."

"Stupid Backup," A snapped accusingly under his breath, returning the gesture of annoyance that was using the full names. Both of them hated their full codenames, preferring to call themselves B and A, but when they were irritated with one another they often used the full ones, much like parents using middle names when they were irritated or demanding.

Regardless of this, though, A looked up with foggy gray-blue eyes and told him anyway. "I was thinking that it was a nice idea," he told him. "To do a blood bond." B gave him a quizzical, slightly concerned look, and A continued even more quietly, "It's like… we're orphans. So we don't have true bonds with anyone by blood or anything like that, and I was only pondering over the idea, being attached to someone like that. Does B understand?"A looked up at B with big, curious blue eyes as the other stared at him, chewing his thumb thoughtfully as he often did, red eyes flickering. He could tell the other was deep in thought, so he waited quietly for his answer.

After a moment, B replied, "Yes, B understands."

A smiled - though it was lopsided and odd, since A didn't really smile much, nor did any of the other Wammys children of this generation for that matter. B didn't smile back, instead bending down to stare eye-to-eye with the other boy, eyes serious. "A, you cannot do it with anyone but me," he told him seriously, startling Alternate into a blinking frenzy. He hadn't expected such a protective kind of attitude from B - they'd always had a strange relationship, always close together, one after the other, but they - at least A - hadn't ever delved that far into thoughts for one another in a special way other than that.

"Eh? But why?" A squeaked, a bit out of character in his surprise. B didn't relent, leaning closer still, so that the other boy felt as if he were drowning in his gaze.

"Because, A, I am the one who will be with you forever," B told him in a tone that held no doubt, gaze steadily staring into A's uncertain gray-blue eyes. "We are A and B," he added, as if this would explain everything. "It must be me."Truthfully, B wasn't sure why he was so sure, which didn't make sense. He'd never been one to understand relationships nor emotions very well, thus is the curse of the L successor. However, he knew he _had _them, and had never been quite as good as he should have been at repressing them inside him, though he tried. A was, in some odd way, special to him - though he'd never admit it to himself nor anyone before it was too late, A was the closest thing he'd ever get to loving someone.

However, as said before, Beyond Birthday wasn't good with emotions, at least not his own. But he _did _know that the thought of A being bonded with someone other than him was, in his mind, preposterous.

"Well," A spoke quietly, jolting the black-haired boy back to reality. A looked at B thoughtfully, secretly a little happy that he thought that way even through his confusion. "I suppose… you're the only one I would do it with, anyway. A blood bond, I mean."

B smiled triumphantly, that slightly (or more than slightly) creepy Cheshire-cat smile that might send many children flinching away, but A had always adored the expression. Though it was an odd look that many would see as creepy, as said before, he knew better than anyone that any kind of emotion out of the boy was rare and to be cherished - smiles were a rarity at Wammys, especially in this generation.

"Good," B replied after a second, and reached over a bit awkwardly to pat the other boy on the head. It was a strained motion, patting A's messy-haired head almost roughly, but A smiled none the less. "You're all mine, then."

_All mine? _The idea was frightening, but admittedly a little more than appealing.

"Sure. At least 90%," A obliged as B moved his hand away. The dark-haired boy thought _More like 100... _but decided that was good enough for the possessive raven-haired boy, for now at least. "So…" A squirmed a little. "Can we?"

_Oh, right. _Beyond had almost forgotten what they were talking about in the first place - blood bonding. B had never been the one to be afraid of blood or pain, in fact he was rather fascinated by it. He even liked the taste, though it was odd to admit. But the idea of cutting A in any way kind of made him uneasy - he'd always been ruthless, but A was different. The small, gray boy was, in his mind, a delicate kind of person, the kind of person who he feared if he were to be too careless with he would simply shatter there in his wake. B wasn't sure he could deal with that, though he was quite good at dealing with things. _I wonder what A's blood looks like, anyway…?_

"I suppose we can," Beyond relented, bobbing his head thoughtfully in an awkward kind of nod. To his surprise A swiveled around in his chair and hopped out of it, bobbing over to the other side of the room. A walked a bit oddly, bobbing on his feet and practically bouncing from step to step in an especially odd fashion as he made his way to his bed. He promptly got onto his stomach and army-crawled under the bed, wiggling to fit under the small space to find what he was looking for. Beyond watched with interest as the smaller boy scuttled back out from under the furniture holding something in his hands.

B sucked in a breath. It was a knife.

Not an innocent looking knife either - it was small, yes, but it was the sort you would use to slice something. The blade was cruel and slender, the edge obviously sharp even from a distance. Where he had gotten it B had no way of knowing, but A held it easily, as if he'd done it a million times.

"Where did you get that knife?" B asked blankly, leaning forward and poking the tip of it curiously. A let him, and his gray-blue eyes glittered with amazement as a tiny spot of blood appeared on the other boy's finger. _It was sharp!_

"Oh, K gave it to me," A replied, pulling the knife away to study it closer. While he did this B licked the blood off of his finger - it didn't hurt, but he didn't really like the idea of getting blood everywhere. Bloodstained carpets would be a little more than suspicious.

"I see," B replied thoughtfully, settling back down on the edge of the bed, staring at the knife. He was a bit surprised when A held it out to him, gesturing for him to take it with expectant gray-blue eyes, nodding his head. B frowned, looking at the knife again. "Me first?""No," A corrected, quietly. "You cut me, and I'll cut you. It's more…" _Intimate? _"…personal that way."

B gave him a quizzical look, red eyes flickering thoughtfully, but he didn't argue, taking the handle of the blade in his hand. Upon further expection, the blade was indeed brand new and extremely sharp. _I wonder why A bought this in the first place…?_

More pressing ponders occurred to B as he looked back up at the gray haired boy. He was scuttling around the room, turning off the lamp and the computer screen to make the room completely dark. B didn't question A's wishes, though he was a bit curious as A scrambled back under the bed again, pulling out a candle and lighting it with a match. It was the only light in the room, illuminating A's soft, pale skin, the flame reflecting in his gray-blue eyes in an entrancing kind of way.

B was slightly worried, gripping the blade and looking questionably at A's slender wrist. He would have to be gentle, he knew, something he wasn't particularly good at. He'd never been a tender person.

A knew this, too, setting down on the floor and placing the candle lightly to the hardwood floor between them. He understood that tenderness was something B didn't do often, though he tried occasionally with him. A couldn't quite explain the reason why, even as the dark-haired boy settled down beside him with the blade in hand, illuminated only by the dim flame of the scented cinnamon candle between them, but he trusted him. Despite everything, he trusted and cared about B over everyone else in his life. _Even if he hurts me, it will be okay. _

"You should go first," B said suddenly, handing A the blade again. The gray-haired boy looked at him in a puzzled way, but then B clarified, "It'll be easier for me. Please?"A paused. But he had said please, a rare feat for B. "Sure," A relented, managing a smile. The atmosphere was strangely calm, despite the buzz of anticipation that crackled in the air as the smaller boy scooted closer to his roommate, the blade gently held in his hand.

B didn't let himself hesitate, holding out his hand to the other boy. His arm was slender but muscled enough if you were to test it, stronger than he looked, in a cat-like way. A took the hand delicately, cupping it in his own and pulling it closer to him. There was no tremble or uncertain feeling to B's gesture, spidery fingers stretching outwards and wrist lifting slightly to expose the vein there.

A paused for a moment, lifting the glinting silver blade above the other's hand. Beyond looked something close to beautiful to A just then, his eyes like rubies as they gazed at him, sureness and determination flickering in their depths, candlelight illuminating his pale face and silky ebony hair. "Do it," B whispered gently, nodding to the knife in A's hand, readiness reflected in his gaze. A nodded in consent, holding the other boys hand delicately as he prepared himself.

The blade was icy cold as it rested on B's wrist, making the raven-haired boy have to repress the urge to shiver.

A repressed this urge too, but for different reasons, as he drew the blade's sharp edge across his partners skin. It was captivating in a way, at least to him, the ruby tears budding across B's skin in the path that A drew across the wrist. The slight boy didn't know what compelled him, but he drew the path into a curve, delicately tracing a symbol across the skin, careful and gentle as to not draw too much of the life-giving liquid.

B shivered when the knife was pulled away, feeling his heart pounding in his ears. A was so gentle and delicate as he did it, his gray-blue pools of eyes looking as spellbound as B felt. Slowly, B's gaze lifted from A's entranced face to his own arm, sucking in a breath at the sight.

"It's an A," B whispered, mesmerized by the ruby mark on his wrist and what, or rather who, it symbolized.

"Yes," A murmured almost silently before giving B the knife. The ebony-haired man took the blade without hesitation, slipping his lightly bleeding wrist from the dainty grip that A had on him in order to take A's opposite hand with it.

A shivered a little when B took his hand, shocked a little by how gentle the other boy's touch was as he drew his arm towards him and the blade. A felt no fear, only anticipation, heart pulsing in his ears. The raven-haired boy's ruby gaze was transfixed on the smaller boy's slender arm, his thumb tracing gently across the vein there.

B didn't wait for A to give the okay, he could see the anticipation unmistakably in the gray-haired boys gaze. He paused for a long moment, though, to let his gaze linger on the smaller boy's face. A was beautiful, in an unusual sense. His dark gray hair was messy and shadowed his slender, pale face and pink lips. He had a slightly narrowed nose and high cheekbones, and at the moment his slight jaw was set with determination, dull gray-blue pools of eyes reflecting the candlelight. In that moment, A was all B saw, and not just because it was pitch black in the room but for the candle.

A's gaze flickered back to the knife, that was now being gently pressed to his wrist, the dim pressure almost intoxicating. His gray-blue eyes followed the blade as it traced a delicate path along his wrist, brining rosy liquid to the surface in it's wake. A sucked in a silent breath as the liquid materialized, contrasting with the white of his skin. He swore to his last day that his heart skipped several beats at the sight - it didn't hurt really, but it sent a wave of entranced thrill through him as the blade curved once, twice across his skin.

"B…" A whispered, heart drumming in his ears. He wasn't only speaking B's name but also reading the symbol on his wrist, matching in pair with the other's mark. He had the mesmerizing feeling of belonging to someone, rational thoughts blurring for a few moments. _I'm his._

B looked up at him, ruby-red eyes flickering in reflection of the candlelight as he placed the knife down on the ground. A was amazed at how gentle B was being as he moved closer to him, hand reaching up to ghost across his cheek, brushing gray hair away from his eyes. He had never been treated delicately by anybody before, certainly not B, but now he felt as if he were a glass doll, to be handled with care; B lifted his marked wrist to A's, the matching blood-marked letters illuminated in the flame's glow.

"A," B murmured in a soft tone, meeting A's eyes with seriousness. A felt the urge to giggle nervously flit through him, the seriousness of the moment catching his youthful side off guard, but the feeling was gone as soon as it came, relaxing completely.

"B," he replied, daintily brushing his fingertips across B's. This was the moment of truth, the part with the actual bond. B nodded in understanding, taking A's hand carefully in his own. Previously, A would have told you that B and delicate were an oxymoron, but now he didn't think so, B's hand grasping the other's with only a feather of pressure.

Without another moment to linger B pressed his bleeding wrist on A's just gently. It stung a little, for a split second, but then the feeling was a good one. It was not so much the feeling of the actual contact, B had to suspect, but the thing that it symbolized. A's eyes lit up, obviously feeling the tingle of warmth as well, and reached up with the hand not bonding to close it over their wrists, as if to prevent B from escaping.

B smiled a bit, unable to help himself. It was strange - really, B was smart enough to know that blood bonds didn't really do anything. But what it represented was powerful - "_I am yours now. Forever."_

B didn't realize he had whispered that out loud until A smiled at him, replying firmly, "And I, yours. Forever."

The words had an air of such finality that they caused B to shiver in response, doubt evaporating from his mind. A was his. Forever. The only thing that still bothered the raven haired boy then was the numbers dancing over A's head, taunting and obvious there, gradually ticking away. _I know exactly how long "forever" is going to be…_

"Good," B murmured before finally moving his wrist away from A's, the bond complete. A shivered now, mimicking B's previous movement. For a second, B wasn't sure what to do, but A then did something he hadn't suspected. The smaller boy crawled closer to B and pressed his face into the crook of his neck without warning, wrapping delicate arms around the other. It was an awkward gesture, since affection wasn't something Wammys children knew well, but it made B's heart skip a beat. _A hug. Has that ever happened to me before this…?_

B wasn't sure, but he returned the gesture, snaking his arms around A's waist. The slight boy was trembling slightly, and to the more morbid side of B this was an intoxicating thing, pulling the smaller boy closer to him. He knew that his wrist was still bleeding slightly, and it burned just barely as it was pressed on A's back, but he wasn't complaining.

"Thank you," A murmured after a long moment of embrace, slipping away from B. The ebony-haired boy didn't release him though, his grip around his waist not relenting, keeping the other boy close to him.

"Not a problem," B replied firmly, smiling that semi-creepy smile again. Despite the inelegance of the expression, A could see the honest affection reflected in B's ruby eyes, and it was enough for him. Suddenly, something occurred to B staring at the gray haired boy, and he blurted, "Can I have a… favor as well?"Blurting was not something B did. It was stupid and rather unorthodox for a Wammy boy to do. B thought before he spoke, no matter what, but this time apparently not so. It surprised A almost as much as it surprised B, but he didn't hesitate to reply, "Anything."

B hesitated for only a moment, meeting A's gaze with uncertainty. _Go on, B. He said "anything." _The L-mirror couldn't quite explain the urge he had, remembering all the times he'd seen it before; he couldn't explain the fluttering in his stomach nor the pounding sensation in his chest, nor the unexplainable wanting that came with staring into gray-blue eyes.

"Okay," B murmured, half-way to himself and half-way to A. A blinked, studying him carefully as he moved forward, one hand sliding from it's place around his waist to his face. It was shocking to A, even after the whole predicament, how careful and graceful the caress on his face was. But it didn't shock him nearly as much as what the favor turned out to be, the dark haired boy moving forward so close that he could feel his breath on his lips, ruby eyes entrancing him into staying completely still.

Then the dark-haired boy did it. He moved forward once again, eyes drifting shut as he closed the distance between his and the other's lips. A froze on contact, but B barely noticed, pushing closer to the other boy. He couldn't explain it. It was nearly irrational, in fact, the feeling he was experiencing. It shouldn't have felt this good, the pressure of his lips on A's, the pounding of his heart in his chest, the tremble of A beside him. But for whatever unexplainable reason, for any irrational verification B could have thought of, A kissed him back.

And with that simple, unusual, unexplainable, irrational, wonderful action, the bond was truly sealed, through blood and beauty. In that moment, it didn't matter to either of them how irrational it was… it was the closest thing to love nor perfection they would ever feel, and they would cherish the moment, B would forever remember…

Forever…

January 21st, Beyond Birthday would die of a mysterious heart attack caused by Kira, the memory still clear in his mind even on the brink of insanity.

**A/N: WOOHOO! Was that depressing or what!? XD shit-tastic morbid ending, yes? I'm doing a lot with **_**cutting **_**lately… hope u guys aren't blood-queasy ^^; at least this isn't emo cutting, yeah?**


	18. Rainbow

**Red - Matt POV**

I would never tell him this, but to me, Mello was like a rose.

Beautiful to look at - stunning, actually. He was like an angel. Golden blonde hair that brushed just past his chin, which was feathery and soft from hours of brushing. Stunning blue eyes, so bright that they could easily be mistaken for portals into the soul, the kind of eyes that see right past every wall you try to use to block yourself out from the world and strike right into the very core of your true self. That magnificent smile of his, with the perfect white teeth and the soft lips, the kind of lips that just beg to be kissed. The striking form of his body, feminine and slender yet muscled enough to be feared, curvy hips and long limbs.

The image of sheer beauty.

But, like a rose, he is safe only from a distance. Get too close and you'll find the thorns, drawing your blood for even daring to even brush against the beauty. Roses like him aren't meant to be held, their the type to take in with your eyes. Get too close, and you'll get hurt. Bitten by the icy death glares, slapped upside the face with his agile hands, snapped at with his sharp, temperamental tongue. He was the kind of person who knows exactly how to hurt you just by looking at you. Knows exactly how to use his thorns to his advantage - the type of flower that will lure you in with it's intoxicating beauty only to hurt you at the first time he sees a chance.

Unlike the flower, though, Mello is untamable. With a rose, you could easily just grab it by the not thorned part and knife off the pointy parts. Not Mello. He was unstoppable, unstable, and untamable. His thorns were there to stay, and would happily rip you to pieces.

His fury was red, red as blood, red as my hair, red as a rose. Dare to get too close and he'll rip you apart without a second thought. Beauty like a rose, beauty like Mello, was always accompanied by a great force to be reckoned with. His thorns are irremovable.

But there are always people, people like me, that are so drawn to such a beauty that they take this risk. I beat the odds. I found my beauty, my rose, and grabbed it without a second thought. Held the rose, Mello, and like all others felt the pain. Felt the thorns pierce into me and bared the pain as they drew blood.

But unlike the other's I didn't flinch away - I just took the pain again, and again, and again, _cherished _in it even, because it was worth it. Worth the pain to be part of that beauty, to be close enough to the splendor that was Mello.

Maybe it makes me a fool. Maybe it makes me brave. Maybe it makes me helpless.

I don't know. But whatever the case, it was worth it - because Mello is mine. I didn't trim his thorns - I couldn't if I tired. Instead I simply ignored them, accepted them and saw past them, and paid attention to the petals - the beauty that comes from the red rose that Mello is.

To this day, I don't regret it, even if that decision ultimately led me to my death. Because even if it hurt sometimes, I loved him. Loved him from the stunning beauty and the softened moments to the icy glares, temper tantrums and abuse. It was always worth it.

I loved him more than life itself. Even if he was covered in thorns.

"_You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses" - Ziggy_

**Orange - Matt's POV**

Orange - the color of my world.

I didn't choose this color, per say, rather it was chosen for me by the goggles. My parents had given them to me when I was tiny, I don't remember how old. Before they went and died on me, anyway. Sometime in that span of time.

That's not quite the point, though. It's the fact that everything around me, from the time that I put those on when I was so young, had been tinted orange. I took them off only to shower, and even then I hated doing it, and would squeeze my eyes shut when I did. Too afraid of the blinding florescent lights of the cheap orphanage shower-room. I kept those goggles secured on my face for who knows how long. Always would, I thought. Nobody, I had decided at a young age, would be able to make me take them off. If they did, they would get a glimpse of the eyes. _Those eyes. _They say that the eyes are the pathway into the soul, and nobody, nobody ever, was allowed to see my soul.

Nobody.

I had decided that from the very moment I put them on, and it was further set into stone when my parents died. They were, frankly, the only ones I would ever even consider taking the goggles off for, and then they were torn away from me. I had decided that day when The System swept me away that I would never take the goggles off, and therefore never make any friends. No true friends. Nobody would be allowed to see my soul, nobody ever. That was what I decided.

And it worked, for a while. My first orphanage was a crappy kind of place, and though at least a dozen kids tried making friends with me, I'd always just tell them to go away. Sure, I tried a few times to make friends too - was a _child _after all, and I had feelings. But I was a weird child. The child who never took off his goggles, the kid who never put down his video games, the kid who didn't want to talk about normal things like reality TV and getting adopted. I didn't want to be adopted and I didn't want to be on reality TV, either. I just wanted to be left alone to play my games.

Then came Wammys. Apparently the orphanage noticed that I was a million times more intelligent than most normal students, and sent me off to the genius school. I wasn't really that concerned when they told me that I was getting a new identity, nor that "Mail Jeevas" was officially dead. I didn't give a damn about my name, and I cared even less about my "identity." If they wanted to call me Matt, fine. They could call me Matt. They could call me Monkey Shit for all I cared - a rose by any other name still smelt the same. Not that I was a rose, though - I was anything but, really, unless you counted the red hair.

At first, Wammys was a bunch of the same old stuff. Sure, the kids were smarter, but they weren't any more compatible with my weirdness. Actually, I was pretty much just a freak within a hoard of freaks. Even among the weirdest of the weird at Wammys, the smartest of the smart, I was still just an outcast. Sure, kids tried to hang out with me. Guys tried buddy-buddying and inviting me to play sports, but I didn't want to do that. Girls tried to flirt with me, but they were really all just obnoxious in my opinion. People tried, but they always failed. That was okay with me, though - I had my games and my goggles, and that was all that mattered to me.

I was put into room 666. It was fitting, really - the number of hell. That was where I was going someday, I had convinced myself, so why not start now? I spent my days cooped up in that room, all alone, tapping away at video games and hacking into the system to find out information on the kids. I didn't really care, but it was somewhat entertaining to know the children's secrets, like where they came from and such. You could call me a snoop, I supposed. I never studied in my free time, unlike the other students - I was just naturally smarter than all of them. Well, save for Near, but he was beyond smart. He was robotically perfect when testing was concerned, and it was rather irking to people who cared. People who, in retrospect, never included me. I was number two, but hell, I could be number 100 for all I cared. I just wanted to be left alone in my orange-tinted world.

And then I met him.

Him being, well, who else?

When _he_ came in he made his mark immediately, so much so that I, the boy who never talked to anybody, heard the swirling of gossip. _"Did you see the blonde kid?" "Are you sure he's a guy?" "Isn't he HOT?" "The new blonde kid scares me." "I heard he beat up a senior!" "He's carrying chocolate around constantly - is he addicted or something?" "I heard he had an argument with Near." "His name is Mello."_

Mello. He immediately rose to the top of everything - kicking me from my number two spot in academics, kicking major ass in sports, becoming popular with nearly everyone even if he was a bully, and was so attractive girls - and some guys - practically kissed the ground he walked on. He had this effect on people that was crazy. He would walk into a room and five people would faint. He'd say one smart-assed word and he'd cause the entire orphanage to riot. He caused so much uproar that by the end of his first day at Wammys, everybody knew his name, face, and hair color. Every single orphan wanted to know it all about this boy, it seemed.

That is, except for me.

I barely even noticed his arrival. While everyone else was flinging gossip and sighting stories through the hallways I was curled up in my room, clicking away at my game. While girls fainted at flirtatious ways, I was kicking ass at Super Smash Bros. While Mello caused uproar in the lobby, I was napping. While everyone was freaking out because Mello punched Near in the face, I was cussing out my game boy for dying in the middle of a Pokemon battle. And while Roger announced that Mello would be rooming in room 666, I was sitting around in that very room, blissfully unaware of the fact.

That is, I was blissfully unaware until the cause of all of this commotion came bursting in the door screaming about how everything was an outrage.

When he first came in I did something I'd never done before. I dropped the game without saving it. Because there was this towering leather decked blonde glaring down at me from my place on the floor, and it kind of shocked me. What was especially scary was that he stared me right in the eyes. Most people don't do that, especially with the goggles - most people stare at your face, or at your hair, or at your chest if you happen to be a girl, but Mello stared me straight in the eyes. Seeming to see right through my fake little orange world I'd conjured up for myself and straight into the very soul of the scared, pathetic little orphan that I was.

I could think of nothing to say, only opening my mouth and staring at him, but he had better plans. I remember exactly what he did - he reached over, grabbed my goggles, pulled them forward, and snapped them onto my forehead. I yelped in shock - in one fluid motion he had shattered my orange world and exposed me to the light, to the boldly colored, harsh reality.

The first thing I saw when the goggles were off were his eyes. They're endlessly blue, so much so that I felt as if I were simply drowning in them. They were staring right into mine, and for a second I thought that my emerald green eyes might simply merge with his blue ones in that very moment. Then I saw the rest of him, this boy with the angel face and the porcelain perfect skin and the feathery golden hair. Staring down at me with a smirk on his lips.

I could think of nothing good to say, unable to put into words the feeling. The feeling that the entire world had been ripped from under me and replaced with… _him. _That was all I could see, the orange retreating from my mind completely to be replaced with _him - _blue, gold, and black, bold and dominating. He didn't even have to say anything and, weather he knew it or not, he had torn my world to shreds and replaced it with this new one of his creation, a world so dangerously appealing that it caused me to shiver uncontrollably, my mind drawing up a blank in the expectant gaze of another without the orange tint to soften the force. I couldn't think of anything meaningful enough to say.

So I said the first thing I could manage to bring out of my lips.

"Hi."

That's exactly it - hi. It was quite brilliant really, so average and obvious that it seemed extremely anticlimactic. His eyes widened, becoming even larger and more absorbing. My hands darted up to pull the goggles back over my eyes in reaction, but his hand darted out faster to stop them, clutching my wrists and jerking t hem back down again so that his eyes were inches from mine.

And then he spoke, and I remember exactly what he said. "My name is Mello. I am your roommate. And you're Matt, and you are going to be my friend. My friend's show me their eyes, and even if you don't want to your keeping the goggles off when we're alone in this room, do you understand me?" His tone was dead serious and demanding, as if he expected me to immediately obey him.

The expectation was fulfilled, and I stopped trying to struggle against his wrists. That's how it begun - my orange tinted world overlapping with my world of Mello. The incredulous need to hide from the world overpowered by this new need. The obsessive desire to be completely owned by this individual, this person that I barely even knew. This boy with the deep blue eyes. He would be the one to own me, and I would happily let him.

That was the day I happily let my hidden, cowering world of orange slip away, that I willingly allowed myself to be put on a metaphorical leash, that he unknowingly slipped his hand into the figurative handle. The day that I became a dog, a slave, and - though I didn't exactly know it then - a desperate, helpless lover. I became, in essence, _his. _And it was all sealed in with four little words.

"Whatever you say, Mello."

"_I have found a paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." -Mother Teresa _

**Yellow - Mello's POV**

Let me just say that I do not enjoy the color yellow. Even if it rhymes with my name, even if it's similar to the color of my hair, even if it's in that song Mellow Yellow or whatever, I _hate that color. _It's a stupid color, foolish and bright and blinding. Sour and stuck up looking, a snobbish color really. Just a poor, ridiculous excuse for gold.

But it also happened to be the color of the walls.

Don't ask me how we got that ridiculous apartment with the yellow walls. I couldn't understand the point of having yellow walls, I mean really, why would you paint your walls yellow? So you could be blinded every time you got home? Perhaps whoever painted it _was _blind and that's how it happened. "Yeah, sure, what the fuck, I'm a blind man, paint it neon yellow for all I care!" Yep, that's probably how it happened.

It being the color of the walls. More specifically, the color of the walls in my apartment. It was ridiculous how yellow it was - not just pale yellow or kind of tan-ish yellow or even that dark mustard color but _yellow. _As in bright, neon yellow that they use for highlighters that you could miss if you glanced at a white piece of paper with that color writing.

I didn't ask to be in this ridiculous apartment. I hated it, desperately so. But I had to stay here because, apparently, this was the room that the mafia had assigned me, and I would have to deal with it. But really - what god forsaken mafia boss picks a room with _yellow walls. _The room looked as if it had been designed by a two year old girl.

Matt agreed with me, at least. Soon as he took of the goggles he screamed and covered his eyes with his hands, yelling, "WHAT THE FUCK? I JUST GOT BLINDED! MY BRAIN CELLS… THEY BURN!" Literally, that's exactly what he said. Very, very loud as well. He has a miraculous way of saying exactly what I'm thinking.

For some people, the yellow might have been bearable. For those happy, optimistic people who see the world as a happy paradise full of rainbows and unicorns and fairy princesses. The type of people who are constantly cheerful about everything and "go with the flow" and don't rant about anything minor. The kind of people who are bright and cheerful and probably use citrus-fruit scented shampoo and recycle their milk cartons and go to candlelight vigils.

Not me. I'm a pessimist. I'm a flaming, horrid, complaining, ranting, violent, pessimistic bitch and I'm proud of it. Call me a maniac, but I'll just tell you "damn straight" and shoot you in the head. That's how extremely pessimistic I am. Especially when I'm lacking chocolate, which I happened to be that morning.

I'm not always that way. Matt says that I go through phases, like PMS, only I'd had it since I was three years old and don't bleed out of my nonexistent vagina. I say he's just crazy, but I guess I could be wrong (or not, since I'm kind of a genius, you know?) but it hardly even matters. The point was that I was freaking _pissed._

But then… I wasn't.

See, Matt has another annoying quality about him, and that's his ability to calm me down. Me, I like my pissy rants - it lets me take my anger out. Like I was right then, by ranting at the top of my lungs and punching a hole in the godforsaken yellow wall. But Matt, being Matt, flipped out and grabbed me by the wrist. Demanding that I shouldn't be abusing my knuckles. I supposed that was stupid of me to punch a cement wall, even if it was painted yellow - my knuckles were bleeding - but he was overreacting. If it had been anyone else that was pulling me into a similarly painted bathroom for disinfectant, I would have kicked him in the crotch. But it was Matt, and the annoying redhead had this way about not making me kick him in places like that. One of them being that he has these emerald green puppy eyes that can make me pretty much submit and do anything (to an extent), and the other thing that I kind of need his crotch to work, since my ass doesn't fuck itself.

He always goes about like this, tending to my every wound and whim. If I throw a 300$ vase across the room and shatter it on the wall, Matt is most concerned about me not cutting myself on the glass. If I attack a woman at the gym for making a rude comment, he's most concerned about me not hurting myself on the exercise equipment when I race after her. If I blow up a toy store, he's most concerned about my minor burns. If I'm throwing kitchen knives at him, he's most concerned about me accidentally cutting myself mid swing. That's how extreme it is. He's practically a puppy.

But a person like me needs that kind of treatment, really. Much as I hate to admit it, I'd be dead by now without that son of a bitch to save my ass over and over again. And if he wasn't like that, so forgiving and worrisome, I honestly believe that we wouldn't be the way we were now. Much as I hate to admit it to the general public, I sort of love him. A little. Or a lot. But shut up, I'm not going to get all sappy just because you fan girl bitches would enjoy it. Not my style at all.

But I do. (Love him, I mean.) We, shall we say, compliment each other. I'm crazy and homicidal, he's a go with the flow kind of guy. I'm bitchy and kind of a whore, he's uncertain and kind of modest around strangers. I'm a public menace, but he has no respect for the law. I enjoy exploding things, he has no trouble cleaning up after me. I'm persistent and stubborn, he's flexible and laid back. I'm a compulsive leader, he's a follower. I'm kind of selfish, and he's selfless. I'm no good with romance, he's gentle and loving. I'm hurtful, he's forgiving. We fit together like two pieces of Near's stupid puzzles.

Our names even sound cool together. Matt and Mello, Mello and Matt, M and M. They even have candies by the name - M&M's, just like Matt always jokes about. Fitting enough, since I'm a chocolate-whore. But that's hardly the point and I'm rambling again. There's another thing: I talk too much, and he's a good listener. It's almost sickening how well we fit together, like a cliché romance novel, and yet we have nearly nothing in common. Bizarre, almost. But I won't question it - he's one of the few people in the entire universe I can stand.

So I digress - I was happy with him. He loved me, and I loved him. I was lucky to have him here with me.

Even if the apartment did have ugly yellow walls.

**Green - Mello POV**

If there was one thing in the world that I saw as truly beautiful, it was those eyes. They were hidden most of the time, blocked from the general public by a wall of orange lenses, but they were _brilliant. _

I'm not the type to gush about anything, but regardless… his eyes.

Matt's eyes.

Some people have those fake green eyes, that are kind of green but really sort of a bluish or brownish green. His were true green. Bright, brilliant, endless green, like emeralds that you could simply drown in if you dared to get too close. They say eyes are the windows to the soul - if that's true, then Matt's soul was purer and more amazing than I expected. But I digress - his eyes matched him perfectly. Deep and endlessly gorgeous, but they had a tortured light to them. They were aged beyond his years to accommodate for the horrible things he had put up with, with the abuse that had been set upon him. Set upon him by his parents in a past life, by bullies… by me.

I regret it to this day, but I was responsible for much of the pain in those eyes. You could see it in his eyes, the hurt that was welled in them so often. But I was also answerable for the love there - the loyal, affectionate, unconditional love that was reserved for only me. I didn't deserve it, but that look in his eyes was for me.

That was what was scary about those eyes. They weren't just simply his eyes, not just organs to fill those sockets in his skull, but portals to his soul. You could see every emotion in them with such clarity it was impossible to miss them. The love aimed at me, the hatred aimed at the more despicable of people, the misery aimed at everyone who hurt him - which was most people, the curiosity aimed at the most pointless of things, the horror aimed at things horrid and disgusting. The eyes that reflected the truth of human emotion.

Those eyes. God, those eyes.

That was why Matt wore the goggles. His emotions were so obvious… how else was he to keep them hidden but behind tinted lenses? Only I was allowed to see that, we had agreed to that oh-so long ago; only I had the privilege of seeing those emeralds. The kind of emeralds you could just drown in…

But like I said - I'm not the type to gush. Even if it was about Matt.

"_Beauty is how you feel inside, and reflects in your eyes. It is not something physical." -Sophia Loren_

**Blue - Near's POV**

I was not one to often feel blue. Blue, in my the sense that I'm referring to, as in sad. Actually, I rarely felt anything at all. No, no, that's a lie - I felt things. I just simply tended to repress these feelings. Especially, in essence, the feeling of sadness.

I've had a lot of things in my life to be sad about, surely. Too many, in fact. If I were to allow sadness to leak through my shield of repressment, I feared that I would become explosive and unstable. I had seen people become this way - Beyond Birthday, for example. Mello, as another, I suspect would have been this way. If he hadn't had someone to lean on, had he not obtained Matt as a support, he would have collapsed as Beyond Birthday did.

So I repressed my emotions. Perhaps it was because I was afraid, perhaps it was because I was self-sacrificing, perhaps it was because I was simply obeying what I thought was best for me and everyone around me. I don't know for sure, now. It was forgotten just like the proper way to feel, lost in the deep abyss of nothingness. I feared the blue, the sadness, the tears. Flinched away from any possibility that I would show any form of weakness in that way. I was physically weak already, so much so that I was so frail and crippled that I looked twelve years old when in reality I was legally an adult. I couldn't afford to be weak in the mind as well. Repressing my emotions seemed to be the only way I could do this. The only way to stay number one.

But then something happened. They vanished.

Number two. Number three. Even the goal. Mello, Matt, L… all of them died. All of them crumbled below me, obliterated by Kira himself. By this so called "god of the new world." This self proclaimed ruler of the universe, controller of death, dangerous and feared king of terror and injustice had taken them down.

All of a sudden, I was all alone.

The best of the best was the first to go. L, though I didn't know it, had been taken victim by the only man he ever dared to trust. Light Yagami, better known as Kira, had murdered him. The time that I found that out, from Roger, my barrier was cracked. I didn't realize it then - my emotions were so far repressed that I barely registered that a human life had been lost, that my goal had been torn up at the roots. All I saw was that the puzzle had been rearranged, that the pieces had become new ones. The playing field had been altered drastically.

Mello flipped out, as I had expected him to. L was his idol, the only person besides Matt that he truly loved and respected. That was a rare thing, for a person like Mello to respect anybody, but he respected L. Put him up on an untouchable golden pedestal and looked at him like a god. So of course it was horrific and seemingly impossible for this god, however flawed that he was, to be taken down by the likes of Kira. And yet he was. His own shield crumbled and he left Wammys - but you know this story, don't you? I was unsurprised that his barrier had been shattered, but what I was surprised about was how easily he rebuilt it. He broke down, he screamed, he cried, he rioted, he exploded. He let out all of his emotions, and as I watched from distance at the scene, at Mello letting everything spill out, at Matt desperately trying to calm him down, my only thought was _I win. You loose. Your facade has been shattered - I am stronger than you after all. _But I was wrong. For the first time in a long time, I was wrong. I underestimated the blonde - he did something I could never do. He swept away the remains of his shattered facade and simply… threw up another one. Rebuilt it even stronger and… moved on.

He moved on. That is when I realized how invincible he really seemed.

But he wasn't invincible. That, of course, was simply an illusion.

Mello and Matt were the only two people I'd ever considered to be my friends. Well, let me rephrase that - I didn't see them as friends exactly, especially considering that Mello hated me and Matt ignored me usually. But rather we had an understanding of one another. We accepted one another and balanced each other out. Together, we could have been the perfect team.

In the end, in a way, we were. We beat Kira… together.

It cost them their lives. Mello had always hated me, and Matt had always cared for only Mello, but they threw away their lives for the Kira case. For _me. _I had never done a single thing for the two of them, and yet without a cower nor a glance over their shoulder they returned to the fray. They kidnapped Takada and willingly set themselves on a crash course. To give me the final hint that I needed. They were reckless, they acted on their emotions - they felt the colors, the emotions, they saw past the gray. They felt the blue, and they used it to their advantage. Something I could never do.

When they died, the crack that L's death had made widened. Widened to the point that I noticed it, finally, but by the time I thought to act on it, it was too late. It happened shortly after defeating Kira - I was sitting alone with an old photo album in my hands, full of distant memories of Wammys, of L and Matt and Mello… and the facade broke. Shattered completely and everything inside of me came rushing out.

I cried. I hadn't cried since I was three years old, and yet I was crying then. It was so unexpected in that moment that it was physically painful, as if something had been physically ripped out of me. I thought I was alone, but it didn't even matter at this point, all logic for once escaping from my mind as I collapsed onto the carpet, letting out a wail. I'd never wailed before, not like this. It was painful, making my voice so loud after keeping it monotonous all these years, but I couldn't stop. There was liquid wetting my face, and I could feel the tears…

And then he came. Gevanni was his name, I remembered. I'd always remembered him. He was the other one, the last one that I really cared about. He was a clever kind of person, though you wouldn't guess it at first. I respected him more than the rest of the team, to an extent. So it was mortifying for him to see me break down like this.

But I couldn't help it. The sobbing was uncontrollable now, the free flow of emotions overpowering. All I could see was their faces, the faces of all of the people lost. I had a photogenic memory, so I c ould see very face so clearly in my mind. Every single Kira victim I was aware of, every single death I'd witnessed, every name, every face. I had no reason to feel guilt for their deaths, since it wasn't my fault, and yet…

And yet the guilt was still heavy in my heart.

Then something strange happened. I felt Gevanni kneel down beside me, felt his arm slide around my waist. Everything in the old me would have slapped him away, but my barricade was broken, just like the rest of me. So I just continued to sob, collapsing into his arms. I'd never felt more exposed then I had that day, and yet I wasn't afraid of him. I couldn't explain it. Couldn't explain the dim comfort that came with the sweet nothings he whispered in my ear. _"It'll be okay, Near. You're going to be okay. I've got you, I've got you, Near. Don't cry…" _Words that I knew in the logical part of my mind really wouldn't help anything. Those words wouldn't really fix anything. And yet I was somehow comforted.

That's the day I realized - I'm just as human as everyone else. I always knew this, really - clearly there was no other species I could be - but I always assumed that I was different. But I'm not, really. Sure, I'm smart, I repressed my emotions, and I can't walk two steps without support, but the fact was that I'm… not really that different at all. I can still feel.

That day I felt the blue. That day the blue not only touched me but it overtook me, every single part of me, until I was simply drowning in it, choking on it, smothered by the intensity of the sadness that had been unleashed. That day, I was human.

And now, I have to say that my only regret was that I hadn't allowed that to happen before everyone was gone. That I didn't open up when I still had the chance to help them - to help L, to help Mello, to help Matt. Back when the Kira case became out of control.

I regret it, but there is nothing I can do now except accept. And perhaps I can follow the example before me and… move on.

At least now, maybe, just maybe, I can help myself. (Oh, and maybe Gevanni, too.)

"_You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, but you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel." - ???_

**Purple - Matt's POV**

If Near was blue and Mello was red, then that would make L purple. The two of them together, as the albino boy later put it, would be able to become, even _surpass, _the great detective L. If blue and red were allowed to combine, they would undoubtedly become purple.

That never happened, not _really. _Well, I suppose it did indirectly, but red never truly merged with purple. Mello never gave in and allowed himself to be pushed into a partnership with Near. I suppose orange just got in the way of that possibility.

I can't say I regret that they never formed a partnership like Roger so much wanted them to. Mello means too much to me - if he had suddenly given in and became buddy buddy with the albino sheep, I don't think I would have been able to take it. I'm selfish like that. Even if the world depended on it - which, in a way, it sort of did - I didn't want those two to be partners. Because Mello and I were partners, always, that was _us. _

Nobody ever saw me. Nobody ever offered to allow me to partner with the two of them. In my mind, I believe that if Roger had called all three of us to that office, had offered for us to become _three _instead of _two, _then I probably could have calmed Mello down. Maybe even convinced him to let Near work with us, in order to avenge L. Maybe then Mello wouldn't have left me. But number three doesn't mean much, at least not to Roger. I like to think that L would have called me up too, that he would have seen the logic that I did that day, but then again L was dead and that was the whole reason for the call up in the first place.

Blue and Red make Purple. Blue Red and Orange? I guess that doesn't make anything.

I hate to say it, but I'm incredibly selfish that way. Even If it ultimately led to the two of us dying, even if it eventually led to more destruction than was necessary, even if it probably caused the chain of events that allowed Mello to get that scar… I was happy Mello refused the offer. He was mine - or rather, more accurately, _I _was _his. _I didn't want to be abandoned, even if it caused destruction.

(I am such a bastard for even saying that. Zelda help me…)

I guess Mello did leave me for a while there, so we weren't exactly partners right after the fact, either. But Mello was the type to always go straight for the goal. I couldn't say with certainty that, if he had been on the right track completely with Near as a partner, that I would have been able to find him. Because you don't just find Mello - if he doesn't want to be found, he won't be. And even if I did find him, I couldn't guarantee at that point that he would even take me back.

I hate doubting him that way. It's physically painful.

What I'm trying to say is, that partnership won't happen. It can't now - we're dead, for Christ's sake - but even if it had, it would have ended in ruin. Mello's red is to bright and overtaking of everything to become "purple" with someone weak like Near. It would have ended in disaster. Worst case scenario, Mello would have blown up the SPK and killed everyone in it. Best case scenario, they would have avenged L, and _then _he would have blown up the SPK and everyone in it.

Yeah, I know, that sounds preposterous, but this is _Mello_ we're talking about here.

I don't know how to explain this to you further. How desperately I clung to the fact that I was the only one that Mello could stand to be around for more than a day (save for L, but he was practically a God, so he doesn't even count), that _I _was the one he chose as his partner, his friend, his lover (or slave, but whatever, same difference). That I was the one he decided he could trust above all others.

I survive on that. I thrived on that. I _lived _for that.

If it ever went away, it is doubtless that orange - or rather, myself - would fade into the background. Leave nothing in it's path, no struggle nor damage, simply fade away and never return. That's just how it works with Wammys. That's just how it works in this life.

I could never allow that to happen.

So, in the words of Forest Gump… that's all I've got to say about that.

"_Those things which are precious are saved only by sacrifice." -David Kenyon Webster_

**Indigo - A's POV**

Indigo is that color that everyone forgets. The color that everyone overlooks, grazes over and simply assumes is purple. That, in many's minds, isn't even a part of the rainbow at all but simply a variation of purple.

But if they looked a little closer at indigo, they'd realize that it's not just another purple. It takes a special kind of person to be truly purple, and indigo's are not. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't look closer, take a closer peek, that you shouldn't cherish Indigo. Even if it's not exactly purple. Don't simply graze over it, but take it and accept it, and maybe cherish it, or at least make some small talk.

If you hadn't guessed, I myself am an indigo. So many times mistaken for being able to become purple simply by the mimicking of L. But I never even got close. I was the first failure of Wammys house, the first failure in the forcing of purple-ness.

But who I'm really talking about is B. BB. Beyond Birthday. Whatever you call him, it doesn't matter. A rose by any other name still smells the same, that's how I see it. He's an indigo if you were to ever see one.

So many people simply mistook him for purple. Simply assumed he was purple, that he was in fact _L, _that he slowly became the other man's clone. Or at least, people seemed to think he did. But if they really cared, if they truly peeked forward, they'd see that B wasn't purple but _indigo. _Too blue, to cursed, to dark to be purple. Beyond Birthday was not L.

I guess, in a way, I have myself to blame for him completely going over the edge. I won't deny it - he left shortly after my suicide. But it's not like I had much control over it - after B told me that I was to die that day, after he saw with his shinigami eyes, I wanted to stop it. But of course, it was fated. I had no choice in the matter.

Cruel how fate works, sometimes.

If anything, I regret leaving him behind. I hated it with all my might, committing suicide and leaving him behind. He was the only person who understood me, and I the only one who understood him - save for L, I suppose, but he was something beyond human, in so many people's eyes. He was the goal. It was his job to understand.

BB should have never been forced to be purple. And he wasn't - they failed to create a second purple. In fact, they have always failed, and will never succeed. You do not _become _purple, you are _born _purple. There is no way to succeed in this. B may be the closest they ever came - though Near is a close second - what with the ability to completely and almost perfectly mirror L. But I digress - they still failed. He didn't become purple but rather a darker shade of indigo, simply looking a bit more like purple than before and skillfully slipping behind the other detective.

But questing to become purple, to become L, does things to people. It's like when you're very young, standing below the monkey bars, and no matter how much you ready yourself or how high you hop or how much of a running start you get, you simply cannot reach those monkey bars. And you know, in your mind, that you could do those monkey bars better than _anybody, _if you could just _reach _the darn things. That's what it was like for B, only a million times worse.

Near, another indigo in this situation - though he was more of a blue, really - did reach those monkey bars. He had so much support from everyone around him that he was simply lifted to those bars without even an effort. But once he got there, he had no strength to do it himself, and simply hung limply on that first bar, without the red in him to succeed. Perhaps he will get that red in him someday, perhaps he'll slowly form into a purple (or at least an indigo), but that's another story. Not my story to tell.

In retrospect, we could have easily just ran past those monkey bars and hopped on the crazy train of normality, simply excelled in normal life, but that possibility was quickly crushed by Wammys house. They had convinced us that we were so different that we could never fit into society. They didn't mean to do it, and didn't do it purposefully. But with our goal being, ultimately, L, it was unavoidable, considering that he was so strange.

But I digress - it's too late now. Too late to help the indigo, too late to try and fit it back into the rainbow. It has already faded, and the people have already forgotten. Couldn't remember the faces for the life of them. Not all people, but in general, the majority - none of them could remember the face of Beyond Birthday, nor Alternate. We already knew this was how it was to be - unless you become L in the end, you are ultimately forgotten. Nobody cares about those who try and fail. Nobody cares about he faceless orphan who tried very hard but ended up never reaching that first bar, that ended up simply slipping back into the blur of life. Nobody will remember them, even if they helped. Even if they were a key piece in the puzzle, nobody really cares - all anyone ever cares for is the full puzzle at the end. The final picture is what matters to the general public.

We are all guilty in that way. All guilty of forgetfulness.

It's too late now to take it back.

"_Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending." -Maria Robinson_

_**A/N: Uhhhh… this was all sorts of random XD I apologize for this. It's basically drabbles for every color in the rainbow. WOOHOO? XD yeah I know this sucks and that I should be working on Heartburn, but I'm having a case of writers block and drabbles tend to help with that. So… yeah. :P don't judge me! ^_^ enjoy & review if you wish! Oh, and I got all the quotes online. So yeah. Idk I just felt the need to have quotes, because the first one had a quote that I absolutely love (ZIGGY! 8'D) but I felt weird not having quotes for ALL of them, because then my drabbles would think I had favoritism. Can't have that! O___O ….yeah, I'm a weirdo. Bye! XD ~Holli**_


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